Ég Er Hér
by Valkyrie's Emblem
Summary: "I am Here". No matter what may happen in the world, they are still brothers. Norway and Iceland's relationship from independence, World War II, the Cold War, and the present day. No pairings and human names used. Rated T because I'm a little paranoid.
1. 1: Letters

**I have a little bit of an obsession with Norway and Iceland's _brotherly _relationship... Or just family stuff in Hetalia in g****eneral...**

**Anyways, as the summary says, this is how they see ****the events roughly from 1905 to present day. I am not exactly following Hetalia cannon, but I will try to stay as historically accurate as I can. Unfortunately, the history curriculum where I lived stunk. I got two years of world history out of twelve, and one of those mostly focused on ancient civilizations. Luckily, the internet exists.**

**This story will probably end up being pretty long. I have the chapters set up in arcs in my mind, and there are quite a few of them. I will do my best to not take forever to update, though. I apologize in advance if I don't update for a while.**

**NO PAIRINGS. This is about brotherly love, not romantic.**

**The title is Icelandic for "I am Here".**

**Human Names:**

**Norway- Lukas Bondevik  
Iceland- ****Eiríkur Steilsson  
Denmark- Mikkel Køhler**

**Any others will be added as needed.**

**NOTE: I changed Denmark's name from Magnus to Mikkel.**

* * *

**Ég er Hér**

**Chapter 1: Letters**

_June 7, 1905_

A young-looking boy with silvery white hair walked along a fairly deserted road late in the day. The few people he passed gazed at him curiously, wondering why what they thought was a twelve or thirteen year old boy was wandering Reykjavik's streets by himself, though the boy kept his head down and seemingly didn't notice. Some even wondered how he was able to not run into anything, not knowing that he had been walking around the Icelandic capital since it had been created.

He kept walking, the roads getting progressively more deserted, until he finally reached a house about ten minutes' walk outside of the city. He opened the door, not having locked it before he left earlier. Looking around the living room, he sighed, not finding anyone there. It wasn't like he had honestly expected his brother to be there, and he wasn't even completely sure he even _wanted _him to show up.

Pulling out a sheet of paper from his pocket, he unfolded it and read it again, skipping over the many pointless paragraphs until he got to the part he wanted.

_Norge is apparently going to hold some kind of referendum for independence or something in June. I think it was the… 7 or something. So Lukky might come back soon! Aren't you excited, Icy? _

First, would it kill the Dane to call him Iceland, his nation name, or even Eiríkur, his human name?

Annoying Danish personifications aside, Eiríkur didn't know how he felt about Lukas coming back. He was happy for the Norwegians that they were most likely going to be free after over 500 years, though he was jealous- he couldn't even really remember being completely free, not under the control of another government. On the other hand… Lukas hadn't even attempted to contact him since he was forced to accept the union with Sweden. Even if he hadn't been allowed to visit him, he still could have sent him a letter to let him know that he was _alive. _And he could have- he had never met someone more talented with magic than Lukas. And that included the fey.

He sighed, dropped the letter on a small table and headed to his room at the end of a short hallway, not wanting to think about it.

Upon opening the door, he heard a high-pitched squeak and barely caught a glimpse of a fairy next to a small box before it disappeared. Eiríkur stared at the space where it had been, confused at what it had been doing in his house. He hadn't seen any fey for at least a decade, and couldn't even remember the last time he had _talked _to any so-called 'mythical creature'.

The Icelander knelt down to pick up the box and opened it, seeing several sheets of folded up paper inside. He pulled one out and unfolded it, nearly dropping it in shock upon seeing the ink.

It was Lukas' handwriting. And what's more, it was written in Icelandic.

Not able to stop his trembling hands, nor really making an effort to, he read what it said.

_Eiríkur,_

_I am not even sure why I am even bothering writing these letters. It has been 93 years and I have not sent a single one. And if I did now, it would not change anything._

_You probably still blame me for leaving. Honestly, I still blame myself. Why did I not try harder to leave the Kalmar Union? Maybe Denmark's military was too strong, or maybe I was too afraid of being under Swedish rule, though look at what has happened now. Or maybe I was just weak. Yes, that is probably the answer, I will admit. I was far too weak to stop this._

_Whatever happened, I wish that I was able to keep you with me. I do not believe that Mikkel will mistreat you, Eiríkur- he should have no doubt that I will find a way to permanently kill him if he should do anything I may even slightly disapprove of. But you are still my brother by blood, the only other child of Scandinavia. Nothing will ever erase that fact, even if you do not remember her or those early years before your land was officially settled, when it was just the two of us._

_You have probably grown some more, considering that you have been gaining more and more independence. Though I will always miss those days when you were small enough that you would always beg me to carry you and I could never deny you, it will be nice to see you growing up, and finally fully becoming your own, independent country._

…_This letter sounds horribly sentimental. Though maybe it is because of what is happening in my land now. My people are calling for independence, and I believe- no, I know it will happen this time. I do not know how I know this. It is a feeling that I cannot describe. I am sure that when you gain full independence, you will know. You may think that day is a long way off, but I have a feeling that it will be sooner than you expect._

_I doubt I will be able to see you immediately after I declare my independence. I will have many things to take care of, like actually getting a house that is not falling apart and helping the new government. I will also probably be drowning in paperwork for a while, which is literally the only thing that I am not looking forward to. But I promise to you, even though you may never know it, I will find a way to see you before the year out. 93 years may seem such a short time to ones as long-lived as us, but it is still far too long to never be able to see one's brother, younger or older._

_I only pray that you will feel the same._

_Lukas_

Eiríkur, no matter how much he would try, couldn't hold back the tears that fell from his eyes. "I didn't think that you cared," he whispered out loud, bowing his head and clutching the letter in his left hand as the right went over his eyes to try and stem the flow of tears.

He had blamed Lukas for leaving all of this time, trying to convince himself that the elder nation didn't care about him and not caring how irrational that was, had known that he hadn't had a choice, had tried to fight the Treaty of Kiel, had almost seemed to _cry _when they were parting, and had _raised _him.

Reading that letter completely destroyed any and all of those thoughts. Even disregarding the content, the sheer fact that Lukas wrote it in Icelandic meant more than anything else he could have done, when not even Mikkel, who was unfortunately still in control of his lands, could even _speak _it, despite the fact it was the closest to Old Norse out of all their languages.

Once Eiríkur thought he was somewhat in control of his emotions, he reached for another letter, not caring that he hadn't eaten anything for hours and how tired he had been before he had come home.

* * *

It took the Icelander most of the night to finish the letters, and he eventually just fell asleep where he had been sitting on the floor, too spent from the tears and memories to move to his bed.

As he was sleeping, he had a dream- no, he _remembered_ a long-forgotten memory.

_He was running around a large, green field. Eiríkur recognized it as his home, though something seemed different about it. He didn't have time to think of what it could be, because he suddenly heard someone shout, "Eiríkur!"_

_If this hadn't been a memory, he would've frozen upon hearing that voice, but as it was he didn't have any control over his body. He turned around, feeling his mouth break into a huge smile upon seeing the owner of the voice. "Big Brother!" he shouted, running towards the man that had spoken, who took him in his hands and lifted him up in his arms._

"_I know you are excited, little brother," Lukas said, his normal lack of expression on his face, but a gleam of amusement in his eyes Eiríkur had always been able to see, "but please don't run off. I do not know your lands as well as you do."_

_His brother was speaking in Old Norse, meaning that this was most likely back in the Viking Age. What came out of his younger self's mouth confirmed his suspicions. "But I'm so excited! You said that some of your people were coming to live here! They'll be here today, and I want to be there to greet them!"_

_Lukas' eyes widened. "How do you know that they will be here today?"_

"_They sighted land not too long ago!" he said, beaming. "They'll land by nightfall!"_

_A real, true smile appeared on the Norwegian's face, one that only a handful of people had ever seen. "Then it looks like they are your citizens now, _Iceland_," he said softly, emphasizing his nation name. "I had no idea they were so close until you said something."_

"_Really?" Eiríkur asked, eyes wide._

"_Really," he said, leaning his head down and kissing his brother's forehead. "Now, tell me where they will be landing. I am sure they will want to meet their nation."_

Eiríkur jolted awake after that last word, still lying on his back by the letters. "Was that a dream…?" he whispered. _I thought that Lukas didn't find me until after his people started living here… But I don't think I could have made that up…_

He got up, wincing a bit- he had forgotten how uncomfortable the floor was- and glanced out the window, more out of habit than really expecting to find out roughly what time it was. It was called the Midnight Sun for a reason, after all.

Leaving the letters for now, he got up and went to his room, reaching under the bed and dragging out a small, dust-covered box. The personification dusted it off before opening it, revealing an old tome and a cross hairpin. Pulling out the hairpin, he stared at it.

"_Lillebror, I promise you I will see you again. When I do, then you can give my hairpin back. Until then… keep it… to remember my promise…"_

Eiríkur's hand closed around the cross. With his other, trembling hand, he reached for the tome. Lukas hadn't been able to write down all of the spells he had wanted to give him in it, but he knew that one of the first the personification put in had been a teleporting spell.

Lukas may not have been able to come see him right now, but that didn't mean Eiríkur couldn't come to him. He had something to return and questions to ask, after all, and he didn't think he could wait for the Norwegian to come to him.

93 years was too long, after all.

* * *

**Yes, in my headcanon Icy can use magic and see mythical creatures. If England's siblings apparently can, why not Norway's brother? Plus Norse Mythology was actually first written down in Iceland, so there.**

**Translations:**

**Lilllebror- Little Brother (Norwegian)**

**Other Explanations:**

**-June 7, 1905: Day Norway dissolved their union with Sweden. Sweden didn't officialy recognize them until later that year though, I think. Can't remember the exact date.**

**-"Gaining more and more independence": 1874- Iceland got a consitution and limited home rule, which was expanded in 1904.**

**-Scandinavia: We'll get to her in the next couple of chapters. And yes, she's a she.**

**-Treaty of Kiel: Why Norway got forced into a union with Sweden in the first place. It would take a little bit too long to explain, so go look it up.**

**-Icelandic the closest to Norse: As far as I can tell. It's not exactly the same, though. Pronunciation and spelling are different. If someone actually speaks Icelandic and this is not true please correct me.**

**-93 years: Time that Norway was in a union with Sweden.**

**So, this is what I consider the start of part 1: Norwegian independence and reconciliation. Yeah, I didn't bother coming up with a cool title. Nor will I ever.**

**I don't have a beta, for the record, but I do have spell check and read through before even uploading the chapter to the site. And then after.**

**By the way, what time period does the DNA test strips take place in? I've never seen someone actually put a time period on it, so I thought I'd ask.**

**Anyway, please review and tell me if I need to do anything different and if I did anything right. Seriously, please.**


	2. 2: Reconciliation

**Lukas seems so out of character here… Let's just say that he's happy to see his brother and find out that he doesn't hate him, okay?**

**Disclaimer (Forgot about this): **_**Fan**_**fiction. Even discounting that, I really should not be the one to own any country. Not sure that I would even want to, to be honest. Too much work. I'd also probably get blamed for everything and that doesn't seem like fun.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Reconciliation**

Eiríkur hoped Lukas wouldn't notice that he seemed to have slept in his clothes.

Yes, that was what he was thinking as he walked up to the Norwegian's house (which was still in as bad shape as he remembered. No wonder he had been mostly staying in Sweden as far as he knew). It was probably his mind trying not to think about what could happen and fixating on something completely stupid. Then again, Lukas had always sort of been critical of how others looked…

The Icelander shook his head, mentally chastising himself for thinking that. He _really _didn't need more to worry about.

Eiríkur paused in front of the wooden door, hesitating. What if Lukas wasn't even there? What if he had already moved? What if… he didn't want to even see him again?

"Shut up," he muttered to himself. "That letter was too recent for that to be true." Taking a deep breath, he reached out a hand and knocked on the door a few times.

It seemed like centuries until he finally heard footsteps from behind the door when in reality it was probably only a minute or two. Finally, the door opened, revealing the man that had raised him.

Lukas looked more or less the same as he remembered. The same short blond hair that kept for some reason falling into his left eye if he didn't pin it back, indigo eyes that showed more emotions than most bothered to look for, and the pale skin common in the Nordic countries. He did seem to be a little bit older, but not by much- maybe just a few months, if that. He still looked younger than Mikkel. He could tell that, at least.

The only thing missing was his usual carefully blank expression, having been replaced by a shocked and disbelieving one.

"Eiríkur?" he asked breathlessly, seemingly not believing his eyes. Before said boy could reply, the Norwegian begged, "Please, please don't be a dream or a trick of the fey…"

"Lu-" Eiríkur stated, then stopped, looking at Lukas' pleading eyes, saying instead, "bróðir… it's not." He spoke the last two words in what he hoped was still Norwegian.

Lukas tentatively reached out a hand, as if afraid that he would disappear if he made any sudden movements, and put it on his brother's shoulder. Suddenly, the taller man pulled him into a tight hug, almost robbing the Icelander of breath.

Eiríkur awkwardly hugged him back, a little disarmed at the display of emotion. Lukas may be more prone to showing emotions around him, but this was still completely out of character.

After a couple of minutes, Lukas finally pulled away to both the relief and chagrin of Eiríkur- he could barely breathe, but it was so comfortable and nostalgic (not that he would ever admit it) - and smiled at him. "I wasn't expecting you to…" he trailed off, before gesturing for him to come inside.

Upon seeing the almost bare living room with only a couch and some boxes, the Icelander said "So you are moving."

He didn't miss the slightly puzzled look Lukas gave him, though the older nation only said, "I will be the first to admit that this house is a safety hazard."

"Your house has been a safety hazard since the 1500s at the very latest," Eiríkur pointed out.

Lukas just shrugged. "It hasn't fallen down yet."

A typical response from the Norwegian.

The Icelander rolled his eyes and sat down on the couch. The Norwegian sat next to him, but before he could say something, Eiríkur said, "A fairy showed up at my house yesterday."

Lukas frowned. "I thought I had re-warded your house before I left."

"It might have weakened after all that time." He barely caught his brother's slight flinch at the reminder, but continued anyway. "She- well, I think it was a she- left a box that was full of letters… from you."

He looked down at his lap, scared to see what his brother's expression may hold. Silence reigned for a minute or two before Lukas finally said softly, "I didn't expect you to ever read those."

Eiríkur scoffed. "Well, that was obvious." After another pause, he asked, "Why didn't you try to send any of them?" He hated how he couldn't keep his voice completely accusing, how some of the hurt he had been feeling all these decades managed to bleed through.

"I don't know," Lukas admitted. Eiríkur chanced a glance up, seeing his fellow personification's face angled away and down from his own. "I have been asking myself that question since I first wrote one of them. I think… I was scared that you wouldn't write back. Or maybe I was scared that you _would. _I just… I don't know exactly. That is not an excuse, though."

He gazed at his brother in slight shock. Usually he was more eloquent, not wasting any words and not saying anything if he wasn't completely sure what he meant. "Lukas…"

They sat in silence for a few minutes until finally the Norwegian whispered, still facing away from the Icelander, "I'm sorry… it does not change anything or absolve me of any guilt, but I am… more than I will ever be able to express, no matter how many languages I attempt to speak in..."

Eiríkur was shocked to see his shoulders shake, as if trying to repress sobs. Blinking rapidly, he said, "Lukas…" Did his voice really sound that tearful, or was it his imagination? "I don't blame you for leaving… I did think you… you didn't care…" Dang it, he was over a thousand years old! He should be able to control his emotions! "But reading those letters… I realized that I was… just being stupid…"

The carefully built dam he had constructed the moment his brother had walked out the door 93 years prior finally broke, and he started crying again, burying his face in his hands. Two strong arms came around him, and he instinctively buried his face in Lukas' chest and clutched onto him as if his life depended on it.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that. It could have been two minutes or two weeks, but finally it seemed like he could not possibly have any more tears left in his body. As his breathing slowed, Lukas whispered in his ear in Icelandic, "There has never been a time I have not cared for you, not since you were born and I held you for the first time. A century of separation would not change that."

"That reminds me…" Reluctantly, he pulled out of the hug and looked his brother in the eyes. "I thought you found me after your people came to live in Iceland. But some of your letters mentioned that we shared a mother, and I had a dream last night about when people first settled my land that I don't see how I could make up…"

"Scandinavia." Eiríkur just gave him a look of confusion, so Lukas elaborated, "Our mother. She was the personification of our lands before we were born."

"Wouldn't she be your, Mikkel, and Sweden's mother instead? Your countries are the ones actually called that…"

He shook his head. "No. Their father was Germania. Scandinavia did take care of them after his death a couple centuries before the Viking Age, but she did not actually give birth to them. You and I are her only children."

Eiríkur tried to wrap his mind around this new information. While he knew that female nations could have children and occasionally- extremely occasionally, luckily for France- male nations could impregnate humans, he always just assumed that he was one of the ones to just randomly seemingly pop out of the ground and found by Lukas when he first came to his lands. But this information… "She died because of me, didn't she?" he said in a small voice.

"_No_." Eiríkur stared at his brother, shocked at the vehemence of that word. "Giving birth to you did _not _make her fade. If anything, she was dying the moment whichever the three of us is oldest was born. The fact that she made it long enough to give birth to you is a miracle. I may have had to raise you, but I have _never _regretted it."

"…Why haven't you ever told me about her?"

Lukas sighed. "Let's just say that I have some… mixed feelings about her and leave it at that." Eiríkur just stared at him with that amazingly effective deadpan look he picked up from him, causing the Norwegian to sigh and say, "You know how everyone says that I am emotional block of ice because I do not show many emotions?"

"Personally, I think that's only because they haven't met Sweden."

Lukas had to suppress a smile at that. "While that may be true, if you think I am bad with emotions, she was worse. I can count the number of times I saw her give anything even remotely resembling a smile on a single hand and have fingers to spare, for one. She wasn't necessarily a bad mother, per se, but she was just so distant…"

Eiríkur tried to wrap his mind around this new information. It actually explained several things. Children, from what he could tell, seemed to sometimes take on traits from their parents, which would explain why Lukas only seemed to show slight irritation at the very most around others unless something extremely bad had happened. It might also explain why Lukas had always been extremely overprotective and slightly overbearing at times. While it still irked him, he could at least understand it a little now.

"Can you at least tell me something about her?" he finally asked. "Even if it's just a little bit, I still want to know… I mean, she's still my- our- mother…"

After a moment, Lukas stood up and held out a hand to Eiríkur. "It's about lunchtime. I wasn't expecting any company that I wouldn't immediately kick out, so I do not have much, but there should be enough for both of us. While we eat, I will answer any questions you may have."

The Icelander looked at the hand for a moment, before accepting it and being led past the boxes to the tiny dining room.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Bróðir (Icelandic) - Brother**

**Other Notes:**

**Nordic Physical Ages- Physically (they have no idea who's actually the oldest), I see the order as follows: Denmark is the oldest at 23-ish, Norway and Sweden look 21-22, Finland looks 20, and Iceland is the youngest at 17-18, at least during the present. In 1905, when this chapter takes place, he looks around 13.**

**Lukas' house is a safety hazard- took the idea from one strip where his house is completely falling ****apart when Mikkel visited once. Yes, he lived there with Eiríkur for about three or so centuries while it was like this. He is such a good brother, so worried about safety.**

**Female nations can get pregnant/Male nations can impregnate human women- headcanon. Also, the only way for two countries to be blood related is to have a common parent.**

**Germania is Denmark and Sweden's dad- Berwald is apparently his son in canon. I'm just making him Mikkel's dad for convenience and because I've seen too many people make them brothers. Whether they share a mom too is up to you. **

**Fading away- what happens to a nation when they die. There are some loopholes to keep them from completely dying (which is how Prussia is still around), but not everyone knows about it. No nation knows what exactly happens when they die, and they don't like thinking about it. **

**Thank you everyone that reviewed or followed! It really means a lot to me. Anyway, next chapter: Lukas tells Eiríkur somethings about Scandinavia, the Norwegian has a request, and Mikkel is made fun of.**


	3. 3: Brothers

**More Human Names:**

**Berwald Oxenstierna- Sweden**

**Timo Väinämöinen- Finland (I love how we can copy and paste things.)**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Brothers**

"Scandinavia had long blond hair, the same shade as mine," Lukas began, pulling the fish out of the icebox as Eiríkur watched from the table. "Her skin, believe it or not, was even paler than either of ours, though."

"Must have been painful if she was outside in the summer," Eiríkur remarked, involuntarily flinching at the thought of massive sunburns. Even if his body healed faster than a normal human's would, it still wasn't very fun, as he'd found out far too many times.

"Probably. I do not know- I never asked. Anyway, she had almost exactly the same shade of eyes as you."

"Really?" he asked, surprised. He didn't really know any others that had violet eyes like his other than Timo. Sure, Lukas' was indigo, but that was still a shade of blue. He thinks. Either way, it wasn't really violet.

"Yes," Lukas answered, slightly smirking at his brother's surprised expression. "Hers was a little lighter than yours, but only a few shades. She was also fairly tall."

"So, minus the eye color, she was basically the stereotypical woman from our countries?"

"When you put it that way…" he said, finishing cutting up the fish and throwing it over the fire he had made earlier. "She is also the reason we are able to see magical creatures and use magic. The ability seems to run in families, if the two of us and the British Isles are any indication. From what I can remember, she was very good at it, though I don't condone how she punished Mikkel with it."

The Icelander frowned. If the guy that made it a point to get back at anyone/thing that annoyed him with magic didn't approve of how she used it… "Do I want to know what she did to him?"

"She turned him into a woman."

Eiríkur blinked, processing that. He started laughing at the image he pictured in his mind. "He must have loved that!"

"Yes, he actually did," Lukas said, grimacing at the memories.

Eiríkur abruptly stopped laughing upon seeing the Norwegian's face. "You're joking."

"I wish I was, believe me."

They sat in awkward silence for the next few minutes. Finally, Lukas finally finished cooking the fish and doused the fire before putting them on two plates. He sat one of them in front of his brother and sat across from him.

The Icelander immediately started eating. Even discounting the fact that Lukas cooked the best fish he had ever tasted, he hadn't had a really good home-cooked meal for almost a hundred years since Mikkel's cooking abilities were pretty much nonexistent. Though, at least his food wasn't considered a weapon of mass destruction like England's. Then again, that wasn't exactly much of an accomplishment. Timo was _not _a good cook, but his food would only cause you to throw up for a couple hours, not kill you outright.

"Do you have anything else you wish to ask?" Lukas finally said, breaking the silence.

Catching himself before speaking with his mouth open- the Norwegian didn't exactly approve of that- he swallowed and asked, "Yeah. Exactly how old am I then, if I was around before anyone settled my lands?"

Lukas hesitated a little before saying, "Actually, I'm not completely sure. I had lost track of exactly what year it was by that point. Long story short, I spent some time hiding after Mikkel annoyed some Jotuns and managed to get Berwald and I involved. And I also kept you in Iceland for a couple years until I judged that you had grown as much as possible without people living on your lands. I think it was over a decade before someone actually decided to live there, though."

"Helpful. Very helpful."

"Blame Magnus. He was the one that upset the Jotun."

Deciding that that was a reasonable course of action, Eiríkur changed the subject. "Out of curiosity, does being actual brothers have any benefits that I want to know about?"

"Have you noticed that you have been speaking in very good Norwegian, considering how I doubt that you have spoken it since I left?"

The Icelander blinked. He hadn't even realized that he had been speaking in his brother's language, to be honest. "So, we have a better time remembering each other's language?"

Lukas nodded. "As far as I have been able to tell, yes. I'm not sure if it extends to reading, though. I made a point to write in Icelandic as much as I could, and your language is spelled similar to Norse. I'll have to write something down in my language and see if you can read it."

"Didn't I hear that there something about two written forms of-" Eiríkur started, cutting himself off when the Norwegian's head slammed down on the table.

"Please don't mention that. I really don't want to talk about it."

"…So, is there anything else I want to know about?"

Lukas pulled his head off the table and continued eating like his brother hadn't mentioned the language struggle. "I believe that we can stay in each other's countries for longer than most without losing strength and having to go back to our own, though I do not know how long exactly. Other than those two things, I have no idea. If I notice anything else, you will be the first to know."

Eiríkur filed away that information. It could come in handy at some point or another, especially knowing how stubborn his brother was.

"So, now that you know that we're blood brothers, I have something I wish to ask you to do."

"What?" he asked, having a very bad feeling about his request.

Lukas leaned his head on his hands, stared at him, and in an extremely serious tone, as if it was a matter of life or death, said, "Call me big brother."

Eiríkur stared at him. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me. Call me big brother."

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

"Why in the name of Thor should I call you that?"

"Because I am your big brother, and you should call me that."

"That's not a good reason!"

"Yes it is."

"No, it isn't!"

"Big brother."

"Not going to say it."

"You said it earlier when you first arrived."

"First, I said 'brother', not 'big brother', and second, that was a one-off thing."

"Big brother."

"No."

"Groß Bruder."

"Trying to get me to say it in another language won't work."

"Big brother."

"There's only one definition of 'no'. Do you want me to find a dictionary and show you?"

"Big sister."

"…You're a guy. And I assume that you like being a guy, unlike Mikkel."

Lukas grimaced. "Okay, fine. You win _for now_." Eiríkur smirked. "But I will get you to say it one day." The smirk disappeared.

The Norwegian got up and put both of their plates in the sink. "Do you have anywhere to be anytime soon?"

"No. Why?"

"Do you mind helping me pack everything up and help me move? I am planning to summon some trolls to actually do the moving, but it would be nice to have some help with actually boxing up my possessions."

"Fine. Just don't make me go in that attic." He remembered the last time he went in there. Until the day he dies he will swear that that nisse was out to get him.

Lukas smirked. "That nisse is gone, Eiríkur. I banished it, remember?"

"Believe what you want to."

The blonde shook his head and brushed his hair out of his eyes. That reminded him…

Eiríkur reached into his pocket and held out his brother's cross pin. "I… I forgot to give this back to you when I came in. You said you wanted it back, right?"

Lukas took it from him, smiling as he looked at it. "Yes, I did. Thank you for taking care of it, and for giving it back," he said, placing it back in its usual place before hugging the younger nation.

Eiríkur just smiled and hugged his brother back. He will admit it, at least to himself- he had missed his brother. The day had been full of revelations he still needed to sit down and process, but he at least had this moment.

At least he has his big brother back.

* * *

Several hours later, after having finally moved into his new house overlooking the Oslofjord outside the city and saying goodbye to his younger brother (he still couldn't believe that he had decided to visit him of his own accord, and would definitely kill the fey if it had been a dream), Lukas was setting up his bed in his room, having decided that anything else could wait until the next day, when suddenly the doorbell rang.

Figuring that it couldn't be the Dane (he shouldn't even know that he was back in his country), he walked to his door and opened it. "Eiríkur?" he asked, having a strange sense of déjà vu.

"Um… halló… again," said Icelander greeted, and Lukas noticed that he had a sleeping Mr. Puffin in one arm and a small bag on the ground next to him. "Um… can I stay here? Mikkel called soon after I got back home and he was planning to drag me with him to track you down… He apparently bugged Sweden enough and he said you had already left…"

Lukas mentally cursed Berwald. Would it have killed him to not tell the Dane after getting one call, because he was sure that's how long it took for Mikkel to get it out of him? "I've only set up my own bed, just to warn you."

"Never mind. I'll go take my chances with Mikkel." Before Eiríkur could walk away, the blonde grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Is it really such a big deal to share a bed with me? You have done it many times before," he pointed out, skillfully masking the hurt that had arisen upon hearing his brother's words. Eiríkur muttered something under his breath that he couldn't make out. "Please speak up. I have no idea what you just said."

"I was physically about ten the last time," he pointed out. "It'd be too awkward now."

Lukas rolled his eyes. "Sharing a bed with your older brother is not awkward. Trying to comfort a former Viking while being completely disturbed that said man is crying like a little baby is."

The Icelander got an extremely disturbed look on his face at the mental image. "Sweden was that cut up that Timo got taken away?"

"Part of the reason I stayed at his house most of the time was because I was honestly worried about him." The Norwegian grimaced. Finding the Swede curled up on his bed, crying about the fact that his 'wife' had been taken away by Russia wasn't exactly one of his favorite memories.

Eiríkur sighed. "Fine," he huffed, stalking past his brother, who smirked.

_No matter how hard he tries to act completely grown up, he always fails, _Lukas thought, shaking his head and smiling fondly as he followed the younger nation into his house.

"Are there any boxes I need to avoid so I don't accidently blow up your house?" Eiríkur asked eyeing the many different boxes stacked up in what will be the living room.

"Don't worry. I threw them all of those in the cellar. My room is up the stairs." Lukas walked up the stairs, figuring that his brother would follow him, and walked into a room facing the fjord.

Predictably, Eiríkur immediately ran over to the giant windows and the magnificent view of the fjord. "How did I just know that you would immediately be drawn to the sights?" the Norwegian said, hiding a smile as he bent to take some dark blue curtains out of a box.

"Shut up. The fjords are beautiful."

"I prefer the word handsome, to be honest, though beautiful works too."

"I wasn't talking about you."

"Yes, you were. It is a _Norwegian _fjord, after all."

Eiríkur groaned, bashing his head against the glass. Lukas smirked and began to hang the curtains, though he didn't close them yet. That finished, he said, "Obviously, I chose the best view for my room. However, there are still a couple of rooms with good views of the fjord. You can choose one of them to stay in whenever you decide to visit tomorrow, if you want."

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course I will let you pick one. Why wouldn't I?" the Norwegian asked, frowning.

"…I don't have an answer to that, actually."

"The bathroom you may use is at the end of the hall," Lukas said, setting out a spare blanket on the floor for the puffin. "How about you go get changed while I make the bed." Eiríkur nodded, setting the puffin on the blanket and walking out of the room with his bag.

The Norwegian watched him go, waiting until he heard the bathroom door shut before kneeling down and poking the sleeping puffin, making sure to have his hand well out of the reach of the puffin's mouth before it could bite it. "Wha- oh, it's Sir Snarks-a-lot," it said, before yawing and adding, "Shut up and let me sleep."

"Just answer one question and I will. Did Denmark do anything to Eiríkur while I was gone?"

"The drunk guy? Nah, he didn't do anything. I don't think he even really looked at tough guy for a decade, actually. Now shut up and let me sleep."

Lukas gave a sigh of relief. "Takk, Mr. Puffin." The puffin didn't answer, already fast asleep.

He was just putting the last pillow on the bed when Eiríkur walked back into the room, immediately claiming the side of the bed closest to the window after closing the curtains. Lukas smiled at his brother before heading to the unoccupied bathroom to change, slipping into the other side of the bed when he was done.

A few minutes later, just as he was drifting to sleep, Eiríkur cuddled up to him from behind. "Góða nótt, stóri bróðir," he said, voice thick with sleep.

Lukas smiled and shifted so that he was laying on his back, arms around his younger brother. "God natt, lillebror."

* * *

**Translations:**

**Groß Bruder (German)- big brother (I think. Please correct me if I'm erong.)**

**Halló (Icelandic)- Hello**

**Takk (Norwegian)- Thank you**

**Góða nótt, stóri bróðir (Icelandic)- Good night, big brother**

**God natt, lillebror (Norwegian)- Good night, little brother**

**Other Notes:**

**Jotun- A race of ice giants in Norse mythology that lived in Jotunheim. Except they weren't actually giants most of the time, and they weren't exactly evil like some myths make them out to be. It's complicated.**

**Norwegian Language Struggle- There is two forms of Norwegian: Bokmål and Nynorsk. That is all I will say on the subject because I really don't understand it.**

**Staying in other countries- Another headcanon of mine. Basically, a nation has to spend time in their own country every once in a while, or it won't be much fun for them. The amount of time they can stay in a foreign country without having to go back to their home varies. For example, America and Canada, being both siblings and having open borders, could stay in each other's lands for over a decade without anything bad happening, but two nations at war with each other would only last for a year or so if they aren't with their armies. That's the short version of it. Ask me if you want me to explain more.**

**They speak German- I don't really have a reason for this. I just threw it in because it made sense to me that they would speak it.**

**Nisse- Norwegian house spirits.**

**Mr. Puffin's Nicknames- Sir Snarks-a-lot/Snarky guy is Norway, Drunk guy is Denmark, and Tough guy is Iceland. If you have any entertaining nicknames for others, feel free to share them.**

**For the record, the last part originally wasn't part of this chapter. I was going to make it part of the next one, but that didn't exactly work out, so I stuck it with this one, so if it seems like it doesn't exactly belong, that's why.**

**Also, the whole thing with Denmark getting turned into a woman was actually not my idea. My friend joked about something around those lines and I just threw it in. Don't worry, he hasn't actually tried anything after accidentally getting married to a jotun. **

**Next chapter: There's unfortunately a time skip and Lukas is overprotective. **


	4. 4: Interlude

**So, this chapter is pretty much just filler. I thought about just skipping to December 1918, but realized that that would require a thirteen year time skip. So instead, you get a ten year time skip.**

**Also, I don't know when exactly coffee became popular in the US, let alone in the rest of the world. Since it doesn't really matter too much and I don't even drink the stuff, I didn't bother looking it up, so please don't yell at me for getting dates wrong.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Interlude**

February 1915

"So, exactly why is there a massive European war this time?" Eiríkur asked his brother as they were sitting in the Norwegian's living room one day.

"They are all idiots," Lukas declared, taking a sip of his mug of coffee.

The Icelander snorted. "Besides the obvious reason."

"Honestly, I don't exactly know," he said, placing his (depressingly empty) mug on the table. "Some Serbian assassin killed the Archduke of Austria-Hungary and it somehow escalated from there. I do not believe that any of them know, to be honest."

"Pathetic." Lukas nodded. "You're not going to get involved, are you?"

"I would rather go kill myself," the Norwegian stated, staring at his mug and trying to decide if he should dig into his precious stockpile of coffee now or save it. "I really do not want to get involved in yet another war that has nothing to do with me. I've seen too many of those already," he added almost bitterly.

Eiríkur breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't think that Denmark would enter the war anytime soon, so he didn't have to worry about his people, but he had been worried about his brother. Though, now that he thought about it, Norway would almost have to willingly enter the war, considering how he could not think of a reason why anyone would really try to invade. Make him stop shipping goods to the other side, maybe, but that almost seemed to be more trouble than it would be worth.

"England has been pressuring me to give up some of my merchant fleet, though," Lukas said, scowling slightly.

"Of course you'd get annoyed about the ships, because you feel the need to remind everyone that you were one the most feared Viking to cross the sea."

The Norwegian gave his brother a _look _that wasn't really effective because of the amount of times he had been exposed to it, before finally making a decision about his coffee and placing his mug in the sink. "We are going out. Put on a few more layers."

Eiríkur looked at him in disbelief. "Lukas, we have been snowed in the past three days. It only stopped snowing _last night. _Have you finally gone insane? Should I be worried about the fairies pranking everyone again?"

Lukas narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I am perfectly aware of that; no, I have not gone insane; and thankfully, the fey have been quiet the past few months. I believe they are still keeping their distance after what I did when they last tried something. Put on clothes more suitable to this weather and meet me at the door in ten minutes."

Grumbling, the Icelander got up and stalked over to his room and bundled up, mentally imagining pushing his brother down a mountain. He would never actually do it, of course, but the mental image of the blond tumbling down a slope was just a little bit satisfying.

Finally deciding that he had on enough layers, he headed to the front door, finding Lukas waiting for him, a large bag slung over his back. "What's in the bag?" he asked, not really wanting to guess. Knowing his brother, it was one of the bags he had used magic to make it bigger than it seemed, and it could turn into that one incident where he had hidden about fifty extra oars in a bag. He still couldn't figure out why he had done that.

"You'll see," was his only answer. Without warning, the Norwegian reached out and grabbed Eiríkur by the arm as he teleported him out of his house.

Eiríkur nearly lost his balance upon arriving, just barely keeping himself from falling into the thick snow. He swore, turning to his brother and snarling, "What was that for?"

Lukas just looked at him impassively, leaning down and reaching into the bag he had brought, pulling out the skiing equipment that had been inside. He threw the brown set at the Icelander, who reflexively caught it. "I wanted to go skiing," he explained.

"You still could have _warned _me you were about to teleport," the nation mumbled, but not with any venom behind the words. He may not still practically worship Skalði, the Norse goddess of skiing, like Lukas does, but he had always loved skiing. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to go for a while.

Lukas smirked, watching Eiríkur examine the equipment. It was obvious that the younger nation was looking forward to this outing, no matter how much he tried to hide it- he had that small, barely noticeable smile that appeared when he was pleased about something. While he had managed to keep some of his… quirks from taking root in his brother's personality, skiing was not one of them. In fact, he had encouraged it. "Do you remember how to put the skis on, or do you need help?" he teased.

Eiríkur shot him a look, the smile disappearing from his face. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much," he said, turning his full attention to the skis.

Lukas smiled, leaning over and ruffling the Icelander's silver hair, causing him to protest and attempt to swat his hand away, before turning his attention to his own dark blue skis, watching his brother out of the corner of his eye.

_He has grown some more, _he observed. _Not by much, only a couple months at most, but he has. He'll be his own independent nation soon, _the Norwegian thought, a small smile appearing on his face that faded the moment the other looked at him. He stood up, taking a moment to balance himself before saying, "I had Troll check the mountain earlier, and it seems to be safe. Last one to the bottom has to cook tonight." The moment the words were out of his mouth, he immediately took off down the mountain, smirking at Eiríkur's yells as he attempted to catch up with him and pretty much failed due to no one, human or nation, being better at skiing than the personification of the Kingdom of Norway.

* * *

Five hours later

Eiríkur glared at his brother as he walked back in from chastising the troll that had scoped out the skiing area. "Could you at least make it so I can move something other than my mouth?" Seriously, the blankets were starting to cut off his blood circulation.

"You fell into a frozen pond," Lukas said, leaning against the doorframe and gazing at the Icelander. "You could get hypothermia."

"If I didn't get hypothermia that one time that idiot Thorkill managed to throw me overboard while drunk, I doubt I'll get it now," he pointed out.

Lukas' face darkened at the mention of that incident. "He still deserved worse," he muttered. Eiríkur didn't comment. Considering how the Viking had been desperate enough to apparently flee to _Italy_ to get away from the vengeful Norwegian, he thought he had been punished enough.

Despite that memory, Lukas did walk over to his brother and untie most of the blankets from his body, leaving only a fairly thick one. "I am going to find some food. If you start feeling bad, do not hesitate to come get me."

Eiríkur rolled his eyes at his brother's back. _Would it kill him to not be so overprotective? _he wondered. He got up from his seat near the fire, keeping the blanket around his shoulders. Bored, he started looking through the papers Lukas kept strewn throughout the main room. Ignoring anything that even remotely seemed related to politics or other country business, he found a letter from Mikkel. Laughing at what the Dane had written, Eiríkur burned the letter as a favor to Lukas, who had apparently forgotten to burn it like he usually did.

He came across a stack of newspapers. Most of them seemed to be in Norwegian, though a few of them looked to be in Danish, Swedish, or German, and one of them was in Icelandic. Smiling at the familiar words, he put it aside, and picked up the next one, which definitely wasn't in a Nordic language.

"New York…" he said out loud, trying to figure out where he had heard that name before. Oh yeah, that was one of those big cities in America that everyone seemed to move to. Wasn't the capital for some reason, though. He frowned, wondering why Lukas had a newspaper from there. Or when he had learned English, for that matter.

He got up, taking the blanket and newspaper with him as he went into the kitchen, finding his brother fixing a small meal for them both. "Hey, Lukas," Eiríkur said, catching his brother's attention, "why do you have an American newspaper?"

Lukas looked at the paper he held out before turning his attention back to the food. "It is good to keep track of what is going on elsewhere in the world. I had a fairy procure that for me a few days ago."

Setting it down on the table, the Icelander made himself comfortable in a chair. "Since when have you read English?" he asked.

"I picked it up a few decades ago. I thought that it would come in handy at some point in the future. Would you like me to teach you?"

Eiríkur stared at him in surprise. He hadn't expected this at all."What?"

Lukas looked over. "I offered to teach you how to speak English."

"I heard you," he said. "I meant, why should I learn to speak it?"

Lukas shrugged. "Like I said, I have a feeling it will be a good idea to learn it. Even if I am wrong, it will be another language you know."

"Why do you think it will be a good idea? You haven't added creepy fortune telling abilities to you weirdness, have you?"

The Norwegian stared at him. "No, I have not. I have not added prophecy to my 'weirdness'," he deadpanned. "I am just considering the fact that that language has seemed to spread across the world."

"Oh." Eiríkur looked away, slightly embarrassed. Though now that he had pointed that out, it made sense to learn the language if English was as widespread as he made it out to be. "Sure. It does sort of sound like a good idea."

"I am obliged to warn you that English makes no sense whatsoever, though," Lukas warned. "It seems like they just took whatever they felt like from other languages and mashed it all together."

Eiríkur suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

**Notes:**

**How WW I started: Part of this is the fact that American history kind of glosses over the entire war due to only being involved about a year, but I also saw someone call it an accident waiting to happen. If that archduke hadn't died, something else would have triggered the war.**

**Norway/Denmark/Iceland neutrality: the only Nordic nation that was technically involved was Finland, and that was because they got independence from Russia after the war. The others were neutral, though Norway at least was allied-leaning.**

**Britain pressuring to get ships: Yep. A lot of Norwegian ships were sunk because of this.**

**Lukas is really good at skiing: Norway is considered to be a Winter Olympic "superpower". That and the fact that skiing was apparently used for getting around as far back as the Viking Age equals Lukas would break every world record by miles if he tried. The only ones that would possibly come remotely close to challenging him would be ****Eiríkur (overexposure due to having been raised by him) and maybe Switzerland (the Alps seems to be a popular skiing destination).**

**Skalði: At least one book on Norse mythology I've read said she was a goddess of skiing. At the very least she dealt with winter-type stuff. Also, I'm not sure that I'm getting the name right. They have a problem with consistently spelling Norse names the same.**

**Thorkill: not relevant at all, but yes, this was an actual Scandinavian name. It's the first one that came to mind for some reason.**

**English spread throughout the world: Ever seen how large the British empire was? While I don't think it was necessarily the foreign language everyone learned until after WWII, it still had spread throughout the globe at this point.**

**English makes no sense: As a native English speaker, I fully admit this. You know it's bad when people that have been writing it for their entire lives still get confused about things like your/you're and there/they're. And yes, they did seem to take whatever words they felt like from other languages. **

**So, like I said, mostly filler. Considering how I'm having some trouble with the next chapter, that may not be a bad thing though.**


	5. 5: Independence

**I'm sorry that this chapter is shorter than usual, but I honestly kind of gave up after trying to rewrite it after the third time to make it longer, especially since I have the next one and a half chapters written and I really want to get to the WWII arc.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Independence**

December 2, 1918

A tall man with blond hair that had a random curl floating by it appeared out of nowhere in the early morning, scaring a couple of puffins that had been unfortunate enough to be lazing around near him.

Ignoring the puffins, Lukas put the tome he had in his hand in his bag and walked to the house he had teleported to. He opened the door, frowning slightly upon seeing that it was unlocked. He had told his brother more times than he could count that no matter how safe it was, you should still lock your door, if only to give you a warning if Mikkel had decided to visit. Maybe he was hitting that 'rebellious teenager' phase…

Deciding to worry about it later, the Norwegian shut the door behind him, _locked_ it, and started to shrug off his coat. Throwing it on a bench near the door, he walked towards the bedrooms, pausing to light a fire in the fireplace.

Walking to one of the bedrooms at the end of the short hallway, Lukas opened the door, smiling upon seeing the lump on the bed.

He walked towards his brother, running a hand through the Icelander's short, silvery hair. "I told you that you would have your independence," he whispered, smiling at the younger nation. "I am so proud of you, _Iceland_."

Deciding to wait for Eiríkur to wake on his own, Lukas turned around and walked out the still open door, heading towards the kitchen. He raided the cabinets, figuring that his brother would wake up on his own upon smelling food.

The blond's predictions proved true, for about ten minutes after he had started cooking, Eiríkur showed up at the doorway, a blanket around his body to try and stave off some of the cold. "Lukas?" he asked, sounding surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Making sure that the food didn't need his constant attention, Lukas turned to look at the Icelander. "I found out some interesting news yesterday, Iceland," he said, smiling as he used his brother's nation name as a sign of respect, "and I thought that I would come congratulate you. I even brought some of my precious coffee to share."

"You didn't have to," Eiríkur said, shocked. Lukas didn't share his coffee with anyone, possibly because it takes a while to get a hold of the kind he liked, and because he was just that kind of person. He wasn't complaining as he took a sip of it, though.

Lukas eyed his brother, mentally smirking as he observed him. "I lit a fire, you know," he said, referring to the blanket still wrapped around his body.

"I'm still cold," the Icelander muttered, not looking at the older nation.

"That might have something to do with the fact that you're not wearing a shirt, or that your pants seem to be too short." Eiríkur immediately looked down at himself, grimacing upon seeing that the blanket had slipped. Lukas finally allowed himself to openly smirk. "Do not worry about it. It is only natural that you have grown more, considering how you have just gained independence."

"I thought I'd have time to actually go out and buy new clothes before that, though," Eiríkur said, self-consciously wrapping the blanket farther around his body. "I mean, I haven't grown at all lately."

Lukas shrugged. "Honestly, I doubt that anyone would be able to figure out exactly how we age. It makes no sense. For example, you spent most of your years physically around nine or ten, and yet you have grown rapidly this past decade, to where you seem to be fifteen or so. And I have not aged for a few centuries. No one knows exactly how it works."

"Actually, you did seem a few months older when you got out of that stupid union with Sweden. And this is the most I have grown lately."

The Norwegian paused, thinking about what his brother had said. Had he really grown older at that point? He hadn't noticed. Lukas shook his head, deciding that it wasn't important. "If I have, it is not noticeable. And for the record, you have progressively grown older since I came back. The only difference is that this time you seem to have had a major growth spurt."

"And now none of my clothes fit me," Eiríkur said, annoyed. He wasn't mad about getting taller (he was sick of being the shortest and he should be a tall as Timo now), but he really didn't want to get teased by Mikkel about this, since he would have to get money from him. He really needed to start saving up his own.

Lukas didn't respond, putting a plate in front of his brother and saying that he would be back soon. Eiríkur watched him leave, wondering what the Norwegian was doing, but realizing that whatever he came up with would probably be wrong. He looked at the plate, smiling upon seeing that his brother had made his favorite breakfast.

While the personification ate, he thought about everything that had happened. He wasn't too happy that he was in a personal union with Denmark, but honestly, he'd rather that then have it turn out like when Sweden left the Kalmar Union. He honestly wondered if Mikkel and Sweden would ever get past what had happened.

Though, honestly, being in a personal union with them, while annoying, wasn't as bad now as it would have been a century or so ago. The king wasn't the highest power anymore. Denmark was in charge of his foreign relations and defense, not his domestic affairs. And the union was only for twenty-five years. There was every chance that he would get out of it in that short amount of time (to a nation, at least).

And most of all, he was finally his own independent nation.

Eiríkur smiled. He could deal with whatever came from this, now that no one could really deny that one fact.

Lukas came back about an hour later, carrying a fairly large bag with him. Eiríkur was curled up in an armchair, frowning in concentration as he attempted to read a book in English. He announced his presence by dropping the bag on the floor in front of his brother, causing him to look up in confusion.

"I got you some clothes," the Norwegian said, gesturing at the bag. "They will probably be a little big, but I figured that that would be for the best since I doubt this is as tall as you will get."

Eiríkur picked the bag up in shock. Sure enough, there were several shirts, pants, and even a jacket stuffed in the bag. "You didn't have to…" he said, touched that his brother would do this.

Lukas smiled and said, placing his hand on the Icelander's shoulder, "Consider it a present. I know that you do not want to ask Mikkel for money. Go try them on and make sure that they aren't too big."

Eiríkur smiled. "Thank you… storebror."

Lukas smiled as he watched his brother head up the stairs, leaving the blanket on the chair. Even if his finances would take a little bit of a hit for this, he didn't regret it. He walked over to the bag he had originally brought with him and took it with him as he sat on the couch to wait for his brother to dress.

Eiríkur came back about ten minutes later, still smiling. The clothes were a little big on him, but not uncomfortably so. "They fit."

Lukas nodded. "That's good. I also got you something else." Before Eiríkur could protest, the blond had reached into his bag and pulled out a specific piece of fabric, pressing it into his brother's hands.

Eiríkur unfolded the fabric, words failing him upon seeing the design. "How…?"

Lukas smiled. "I have my ways." In reality, it had been a few fairies that had told them the design that the Icelanders would use for their flag, but he didn't see the point of telling him that when he could probably already guess. "I used magic to preserve it. It should take a few decades for it to even start showing any wear."

Eiríkur traced his hand over his flag, the light-ish blue background with a red Nordic cross with a white outline. Without warning, he launched himself at his brother, hugging him. Lukas just smiled and hugged him back.

* * *

**Translations: **

**Storebror (Norwegian)- big brother (went with Norwegian because I see them as speaking in Icelandic and because I felt like doing something different)**

**Other notes:**

**December 1, 1918- Iceland declared an independent kingdom in a personal union with Denmark. Why did Lukas show up the next day to congratulate his brother? He didn't want to have to deal with one of Mikkel's parties. Also, I would like to mention that this chapter was **_**Lukas **_**congratulating **_**Eiríkur **_**on getting independence. I have no idea when Norway recognized Iceland's independence, nor do I know where to find that information.**

**Using nation names- There are a few reasons why a nation would call another by their country names: 1. They are not close to/are at war with them; 2. They are in a meeting; 3. To show respect; 4. They do not know it. Any of the above do not matter if they are related, and they will use human names (or insults if you have a relationship like Greece and Turkey) if they are around people that do not know about the personifications regardless of the above criteria.**

**Lukas loves coffee- It makes too much sense, especially if you look at the coffee drinking statistics. Plus so many people make him addicted to it that I can't get the image out of my mind. I did add that his love has corrupted Eiríkur, though.**

**How a nation ages- yeah, none of them know how to explain it. I don't think even Himaruya does, to be honest. Either way, Eiríkur looks about 15 now. And yes, he is about as tall as Timo now.. **

**Danish-Icelandic Act of Union- valid from December 1, 1918 to I believe December 31, 1943. Correct me if I'm wrong, but like I said, Denmark took care of Iceland's foreign affairs until they got invaded during WWII, after which they said they would take care of their own and declared themselves a republic.**

**Icelandic Flag- No, I did not get the colors wrong. Before 1944, the background was a lighter blue. They changed it when they became a republic.**

**Anyway, like I said, I don't like this chapter. The next couple should be better, though. **

**Next chapter: Lukas bribes Eiríkur into going to the first world conference, we actually meet a nation that isn't either of them, and Eiríkur realizes that his brother isn't doing as well as he thought.**


	6. 6: Travelling

**So, I made a mistake last chapter. "Big brother" in Norwegian is Storebror, with an "e". That's what I get for typing this from memory.**

**Chapter 6: Traveling**

Winter 1924

Eiríkur glared at his brother's back. Without turning around, Lukas said, "Glaring at me will not change anything, lillebror."

"Go die." said little brother stated.

"And leave you without someone to make you butter cake? How could I even dream of depriving you of that?" The glaring intensified, causing Lukas to roll his eyes. "I do not see how making you come to this conference is a bad thing. Besides, we are already here in Bern."

"I could just teleport back home to Reykjavík," Eiríkur pointed out. "Besides, if you believe that anything will get accomplished, then the fey really have done something, because you're usually the one insulting the other nations."

"No, I do not believe anything will get accomplished. I am going because it should be entertaining at the very least."

The Icelander rolled his eyes. Why did he agree to go to the first World Conference again? Oh, yeah. Lukas bribed him.

* * *

Three days ago

Eiríkur didn't even blink upon entering his living room and seeing Lukas lounging on his couch. Honestly, it happened so often that he would be a little concerned if a couple months went by and his brother didn't randomly show up. He wondered sometimes if the Norwegian was trying to make up for missing almost a century of his life or if he was just that bored at his own home.

Either way, he walked into his kitchen and grabbed a glass of water before sitting next to his brother. "Do you really have nothing to do at your place?" he asked, not actually expecting an answer.

"Good morning to you to, Eiríkur," Lukas replied, shutting the book he had been reading and placing it on the table. "Actually, I came here to ask you if you would like to come to that World Conference they are trying to set up."

The Icelander looked confused for a moment before suddenly remembering a letter he had gotten a few months ago. "Wait, that wasn't just a prank?"

"I had the same reaction until I realized that it was being held in Bern. I doubt that anyone would try to center a prank in Switzerland, and they would be even more of an idiot than most nations combined if they did," the Norwegian said dryly.

"Why do you want me to go with you?" Eiríkur asked, regretting asking and not just refusing at the start.

"None of the other Nordics are going. Besides, you need to meet more nations and stop being a recluse."

Eiríkur's temper exploded faster than one of his volcanoes. "I am not a recluse! Stop spreading lies about me! I am perfectly fine alone!"

Lukas just stared impassively at his brother. If Eiríkur was used to him randomly showing up, than he was equally as used to the Icelander blowing up. "Your reaction makes me doubt that very much. And please calm down. It would be a shame for one of your volcanoes to erupt."

"IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY! And my reaction doesn't give anything away! Stop imagining things!"

The blond nation mentally rolled his eyes, though he kept his face was as blank as ever. If asking didn't work, maybe bribing will. "If you come with me, I will not ask you to call me big brother for three months and I will make my extra special butter cake for Christmas."

He could practically see his brother's mind process that and debate on whether or not to accept his proposal. Eiríkur leaned back into the cushions and said, disgruntled, "…Who exactly is going to this thing?"

Lukas fought the victorious smirk that tried to break out. "I do not know exactly, but I would be surprised to see if many of the Asian or American nations showed, considering the distance. Like I said before, Mikkel, Berwald, and Timo are not planning to come. I do know that England and France will come, so we shall at least see Switzerland threaten to shoot them many times before giving it up as a hopeless cause."

"So, basically, it will be a room full of European nations that have grudges against everyone, and who also has the biggest egos to ever walk the earth?"

"Pretty much."

"That's it. I'm insane for agreeing to this."

"At least you have gone to the realm of the insane for a worthy cause. By the way, you are out of coffee."

If it had been anyone but his brother that had said that, they would have been dumped into the center of Hekla while the Icelander laughed manically.

* * *

Eiríkur jolted out of his thoughts upon literally running into his brother. Lukas turned around, raising an eyebrow at him. "Why did you stop so suddenly?"

"I did not," the Norwegian replied, staring at him with his usual blank expression. "I stopped to read the sign to make sure this was the correct hotel, which it is, and you were too lost in your head to pay any attention."

"Shut up."

Lukas didn't respond, just turned around and headed into the building, Eiríkur following, a little annoyed.

Unlike Lukas, who didn't even break stride, the Icelander actually stopped a moment to admire the interior. It wasn't big or grand, but it still had a certain charm to it, with the comfortable looking chairs and couches and nice, earthly colors. It even had a new radio, though it was playing some weird German opera music that he couldn't really understand even though he was fluent in that language..

Realizing that his brother wasn't stopping, Eiríkur picked up his pace, meeting him at the desk. There were two men standing by it, one a fairly nondescript Swiss man, though in a fancy tux.

The other was a little more impressive. He had chin-length blond hair, wore a green military uniform, and had a rifle sling across his back. Judging by the fact he got a gun in here, he was probably Switzerland. That weird aura he always felt when he was near another nation confirmed it.

"Hello. It has been awhile since I have seen you, Zwingli," Lukas greeted in perfect German.

Switzerland nodded. "It has, Bondevik. Who is he?" he asked, gesturing to Eiríkur.

Before he could reply, Lukas introduced him. "This is my brother, Eiríkur Steilsson. He lives in Iceland."

"Hello."

"They're clear," the permanently neutral nation told the other Swiss man at the desk, who nodded and, after asking for spelling, listed their names on a sheet of paper.

"Who else has arrived?" Eiríkur asked, curious.

Switzerland scowled, saying, "All of the annoying people and none of the ones I can stand."

"That could apply to so many people," Lukas observed.

After shooting a look at the Norwegian, the blond elaborated, "The French pervert and that stupid Brit both arrived early, trying to avoid the other. That's why there's a bullet hole I need to get fixed. The American showed up with a look alike and an adventure loving idiot about an hour ago. A short Japanese guy came in soon after, apparently attempting to get away from that cat-loving Grecian guy that was arguing with that stupid Turk. That's it for now. More will sadly show up soon. Here's your room key."

Eiríkur gave a confused look at his brother, not having expected that from the Swiss. Lukas just shrugged, grabbing his bag and taking the key from the nation before walking to the stairs. "Why aren't we taking the elevator?"

"I do not feel like it. Besides, it is only two flights," Lukas replied, ignoring the glare aimed at him.

It didn't occur to Eiríkur that there might be a problem with the fact that they had to share a room until they actually got into it. "There's only one bed," he deadpanned.

"So the tales of Switzerland's hate of spending money are true," Lukas observed.

Eiríkur sighed. "Do you think he'll give us two separate rooms if we go back and ask?" he asked, knowing that it wasn't going to work.

Lukas shook his head. "No. He won't." He walked into the room and placed his bag down, rummaging through it to find the book he had brought.

"Could you pay for an extra room?" the Icelander asked, not missing how the Norwegian tensed upon hearing the question.

"No. Why should I, when I can spend some quality time with my favorite brother?"

"I'm your only brother," Eiríkur protested, though he noted the fact that his brother dodged the question, like he had the past few years.

_He can't be that bad financially, can he? _He wondered, watching his brother lay down on the bed and start reading out of the corner of his eye. _He doesn't seem to have a cold… _Shaking his head and realizing that confronting the Norwegian wouldn't work, he plopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "What time does the meeting start?" he asked.

Lukas checked his watch. "In about four hours."

"Wake me up when it's time for dinner," Eiríkur demanded, curling up under the covers. Lukas just smirked and ruffled his hair before turning his attention to his book.

* * *

Eiríkur jolted awake about an hour and a half later. Groggily opening his eyes, he tried to figure out what had woken him when he heard a round of coughing. Fully waking, he sat up and searched for the source, finding Lukas hunched over his bag.

"Bróðir!" The Icelander jumped out of bed and ran over to his brother. "What's wrong?"

The coughing fit over, Lukas sighed. "I was hoping that you would not find this out, Eiríkur." He reached into his bag and removed a small vial, drinking the entire thing before turning back to the younger nation. "Let's just say that my economy is not the best at the moment."

Eiríkur frowned. "Is that why you've been a bit touchy about money lately?" he asked, the Norwegian's actions these past few years finally starting to make sense.

"Yes and no. Part of the problem is that, while I get money from the government each month, the amount is not that large because I would rather it go to help my people. It is also hard for me to find a job outside of the government, considering how sooner or later someone will notice that I do not age. Any job where getting hurt is a major possibility is out since they would definitely notice how fast I heal."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Eiríkur asked, concerned about his brother.

"There's nothing that you can do."

"Yes, there is! I could start paying for things when you take me somewhere. I've been trying to for the past couple decades, but you won't let me."

"I don't mind paying for you, though," Lukas said, folding his arms and staring at his brother. "I may not have enough to pay for another hotel room, especially one as nice as this, but I am not in big enough trouble that I can't pay for a few meals."

"I don't care. We are going out for dinner and I am paying," Eiríkur insisted, standing up and grabbing his coat. "It's not as if I haven't stolen- I mean borrowed enough of Mikkel's money."

Lukas stared at the Icelander and apparently decided that it wasn't worth fighting. "Fine," he said, standing up himself and shrugging on his own coat. "This is a one-time thing, however."

Eiríkur rolled his eyes. He wasn't even going to open that can of worms, though his attitude was ridiculous. "By the way," he asked as they left the hotel room, locking the door behind them, "what was that thing you were drinking earlier?"

"It was a potion I made a couple weeks ago. It helps with cold symptoms, though it will not actually cure one that is affected by our countries."

Eiríkur nodded, leading the way to the lobby (taking the elevator this time) and out into the capitol.

* * *

**Translations: You should know any by now or guess.**

**Other notes:**

**Winter 1924- No reason why I chose this date. I literally just randomly chose it.**

**Bern- Capitol of Switzerland. Why is Switzerland hosting it? He's the neutralist nation out there. He's not afraid to shoot and hates everyone but Liechtenstein equally.**

**The other Nordics not coming- okay, I'll admit it, I do not really have a good reason why they aren't coming in the story. However, I have plans for when Berwald finally shows up and I couldn't think of a good reason why he wouldn't come if Timo did. As for Magnus, I just didn't feel like writing him when I wrote this chapter.**

**Hekla- One of Iceland's volcanoes.**

**Nation auras- Not my headcanon, but it makes sense that there's something that would let other nations know when another is near. This only applies to nations. While a regular human may think there's something familiar about their personification, they won't know who they are unless they are told.**

**Norway's economy- From what I can tell, it wasn't that good between the World Wars (or after to be honest. Apparently somethings were rationed until the 60s, though I found that info from Wikipedia, so I don't know how accurate it is). I don't believe it got as bad as, say, Germany's, but it still wasn't good. Thus Lukas having a cold and attempting to hide it.**

**Meh, I still don't like this chapter. Like I said last chapter, I really don't have much planned for the 20s and 30s, plus I really want to get to WWII.**

**For the record, this chapter was supposed to just be the conference, but I realized I had some things I wanted to mention, and thought I should give some background to the conference.**

**An omake that didn't really fit in with the rest of the chapter:**

They stopped in the lobby, staring at the scene in front of them.

A brunette with a weird curl was shouting profanities in what he believed was Italian at a nervous looking nation he believed was Spain, an auburn haired man attempting to calm him down but bursting into tears when the yelling turned to him. Meanwhile Switzerland had his gun out while yelling at him in the same language and the clerk had mysteriously disappeared.

The two brothers looked at each other and promptly vacated the premises before shots were fired.


	7. 7: Conferences

**I have a sneaking suspicion Switzerland is out of character, though I had too much fun writing him to bring myself to care.**

**Also, someone asked where Mr. Puffin has been. The problem is that I have problems figuring out what to do with a puffin that speaks like a Mafia boss. So, he won't show up too often. Sorry.**

**READ THIS BEFORE CONTINUING: When they get together for a world conference, the nations speak in what they refer to as "the world language", which **_**only **_**they can speak. It's not perfect, though. It has no writing system, and greetings and country names default to their official or preferred language. (They have no idea why this is.) This usually only applies to world conf****erences and if two nations can't speak a common language (which is rare due to how many speak English now), and occasionally if they don't want any humans to understand them.**

**As a result, I left country names untranslated, though I believe that you can guess who they are. If not, translators exist. Also, if any are wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Conferences**

Upon walking into the conference room, Lukas actually gave thought to just going back home.

Switzerland was standing at the head of the table, gun in hand and glaring at England and France, who were frozen in a fighting pose. The Norwegian noticed a suspicious bullet hole in the wall behind the two.

"Both of you will sit on opposite sides of the table and not do anything else for the rest of the conference," the trigger happy nation said. "Understand, England, Frankreich?"

The two nations nodded, immediately sitting down as far away from each other and the Swiss as possible.

Switzerland sighed, strapping his gun back to his back. He turned to the door, finally noticing the two Nordics standing there. "Norwegen, Island. You're here early."

"Dinner took less time than we had expected, Sveits," Lukas replied.

Switzerland nodded. "I already regret it, but there are no assigned seats. I may have to change that, though," he said, glaring at France and England again.

Without another word, Lukas led Eiríkur over to a seat across from France and another woman wearing glasses with blond hair in a braid that was shuffling through some cards. "Ah, Norvège, you are as looking as lovely as ever," France greeted, earning a look from the Norwegian. "Who is that beautiful nation you have brought with you?"

Eiríkur's face was almost comical. Lukas noticed and said, "This is Island, _my brother_, Frankrike," he hissed. His message was clear: _If you do not want to be reminded why I was feared throughout this continent a millennium ago, you will stop flirting with him._

France seemed to have gotten the message, for he hastily turned to the woman next to him, saying, "This is my sister, Monaco."

Monaco looked up from her cards. "Bonjour, Norvège, Islande," she greeted.

"Halló," Eiríkur said as Lukas nodded in greeting.

France made small talk for awhile, Lukas, Eiríkur, and Monaco mostly ignoring him as they waited for the meeting to start.

More nations than Lukas had expected came. Because he was such a nice brother, he either introduced them to him or told him the names of the ones he recognized, depending on how close they chose they decided to sit near them. He also chose to speak Eiríkur in Icelandic, admittedly enjoying France and any other nations that had been around during the Viking Age's panic a bit too much when they thought that they had been speaking in Old Norse before they realized the pronunciation was off. Eiríkur did too- he noticed him hiding several smirks.

Finally, Switzerland deemed that everyone that was coming had showed up. He went to the front of the room and said, "Everyone shut up or I'll have to reload my gun when I'm done."

Lukas mentally noted how effective that threat was. Maybe if he ever had to host one of these ridiculous things he could convince Troll to pay a visit and show himself to everyone. He would remind himself to think of good bribes later.

Switzerland nodded, seemingly pleased, though his face stayed as grumpy as ever. "Thank you. Guten tag, everyone. As you know, someone decided that it would be a good idea to have all of us in the same room and expect no one to get killed. If you are that idiot or know that idiot, tell us so we can kill you."

Lukas thought he saw France and England shift uncomfortably, but couldn't be sure.

After waiting a moment, the neutral nation continued on as if he hadn't spoken. "There are a few rules to remember if you don't want to be on the business end of my rifle. One was no pets, but some can't listen to such a simple thing." Greece, the culprit, just continued sleeping, not paying any attention to Switzerland's glare, the kitten he had brought in mimicking its master.

"A more important one is no brutally murdering each other. The hotel staff will be concerned at the blood. If you wish to kill each other, please take it outside, preferably to a dark alley where no one will find the body when it comes back to life."

Lukas felt Eiríkur poke him with a piece of paper. He took it, seeing that the Icelander had written _I give it five minutes before England and France break it._

The Norwegian wrote back, _I'll be more specific and say they'll break it when we get around to deciding who's language we will write in. _He saw his brother nod out of the corner of his eye before turning back to the Germanic nation.

"No eating during the meeting. There will be plenty of time for that during breaks. And England, offer anyone that inedible slop you call food and you will die an painful death at least three times."

As expected, England didn't exactly like this. "You b**** w*****! My food tastes perfectly fine! None of you have any taste!"

France, America, Australia, and Spain nearly died laughing. A red haired woman he recognized as Ireland took it a step further and said, "Sasana, you have never been able to cook. The only one who comes close to your lack of cooking skills is Scotland, and that's only when he makes haggis or tries to fry everything."

_And Timo, _Lukas mentally added, shuddering at the memory of the Finn's cooking as Switzerland pointed his gun at the English nation and threatened him with a body full of bullets if he did not sit back down and stop attempting to kill his older sister.

Finally, Switzerland regained control and continued, "Finally, no bringing up any wars, past or present, or any other acts such as that. Because I believe I speak for everyone when I say I do not want to be the cause of another one of those blasted wars."

_Well, that killed the mood, _Lukas noted, observing how everyone fell silent, refusing to look at anyone else, especially if they had been on a side during that last global war.

After a moment, Switzerland broke the silence. "We'll take a small break now. There are refreshments in the next room. Do not complain if you do not like them and just be glad I bothered to provide any."

Lukas pulled Eiríkur to the next room with him, taking a few treats from the table before sitting at a small table near the wall. The Icelander sat next to him, munching on some chocolate. "I was expecting more violence," he said, almost sounding disappointed.

"It did not last long enough for that," Lukas pointed out, reaching out a hand to steal some of his brother's chocolate. Eiríkur retaliated by taking one of his pastries. "Don't worry. There will be some later."

They sat in silence for a couple minutes until another nation plopped down next to them. "Hey dudes!" America greeted. "So, who are you guys?"

Lukas blinked, sharing a look with his brother, who seemed equally as surprised at the casual greeting from the American. "Er… I'm Iceland, and this is Norway," Eiríkur introduced, speaking in English, mostly so he could finally figure out how well Lukas had taught him.

America's eyes lit up as he smiled. "Cool! You speak English! Anyway, I'm The United States of America, though I just go by America. Or 'Estados Unis' if you're Mexico. Either one is fine. It's really cool to meet you."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, also," Lukas said, deciding that most of the rumors he had heard about the growing nation were true, though the one he had heard from Magnus about how he was secretly in league with Russia to take over the world and kill everyone did not seem to be true, as he expected.

"It was nice meeting you guys, but I have more people to meet. I hope to see you guys again sometime. Later!"

The two brothers stared at the young nation as he departed. "He's weird," Eiríkur said, switching to Norwegian. "How old is he again?"

"At the oldest, I believe a little over 400, though that is only if he had been born when that stupid guy first sailed to North America by being an idiot," Lukas replied. "He could be even younger than that. The United States is a fairly young country, having only been created in I believe 1776."

"Why does he look older than me, then?"

Lukas smirked. "Jealous?"

"I am definitely not."

"And England's food is edible. Lying is bad, Icy."

"Just shut up."

Ten minutes later and relative peace later (other than an argument between England and Ireland), the meeting started back up. Switzerland again stood at the front, looking extremely reluctant as he announced the next order of business. "The language we will use for these meetings will be the world language, obviously. There will be no change, so don't even bother. Unfortunately, that leaves an official written language."

"Well, obviously, that will be the language of love, my beautiful language of Français," who else but France spoke up.

"Oh, b**** h****, it will obviously not be that," England bit back. "There is no way I am using that froggy language for anything."

"My dear rosbif, you cannot possibly mean that," the Frenchman said, acting hurt, "after all, you had no problem with it a few centuries ago."

"And how much did I speak back then, frog?"

France just tossed his hair, looking remarkably like a girl as he did. "It is still better than your unrefined language."

Before England could blow up again, Switzerland yelled, "Both of you shut up! Here's what we will do: everyone take a sheet of paper and write what languages you can read or write. We will pick what language will be the official written based on that."

Everyone did as he instructed, with a surprising lack of complaining. Lukas debated on whether he should put both of the different forms of Norwegian, then decided that he really didn't want to explain and just put Norsk. He also wrote down Icelandic, English, German, Dutch, Swedish, Finnish, and Faroese, leaving out Danish, French, and Russian because he really didn't want to have to write everything in those languages. The Norwegian snuck a glance at Eiríkur's paper, seeing a similar list to his.

Switzerland walked out of the room to find an impartial judge while talking started up again. Or rather, France, Ireland, and America decided to gang up on England. Lukas tried to figure out why seeing him irritated was so entertaining. Was it the accent? Or maybe it was because he got annoyed over the tiniest things?

While he was musing over this, Switzerland came back in and cleared his throat _very _loudly. When England finally calmed down, he announced, "I got Bob, the clerk-"

"You seriously have a clerk named Bob?" America asked, disbelieving.

The neutral nation closed his eyes as if trying to keep himself from shooting him. "He tallied up the results and English won."

Lukas was pretty sure that France started crying at this point, babbling something in French he was pretty sure was, "How could they not choose my beautiful language? How could they choose that unrefined, barbarian language?" Monaco just rolled her eyes at his dramatics while England glared at his rival.

As you could probably guess, the meeting went downhill from there.

* * *

About an hour later, they finally stopped the meeting after Switzerland kicked England and France out of the hotel and told them to come back after they had gotten the murderous intent out of their systems.

Eiríkur yawned as he walked into their room. Lukas noticed and said, "You took a nap for an hour and a half earlier. How are you so tired?"

"Because I am. Now shut up and let me sleep."

Before he could crawl into the blankets, Lukas grabbed the blankets. "Get ready for bed, and then you can hog the blankets."

Eiríkur glared at his brother, but still stomped over to his suitcase and yanked out his nightclothes, going into the bathroom to change. Lukas shook his head and pulled his on in the room itself.

Eiríkur came out a couple minutes later when Lukas was already curled up in the bed. He laid down on the other side before asking, "Why does everyone have to fight?"

Lukas looked over at his brother, seeing head buried in the pillow. "I wish I knew why, lillebror. I really wish I knew."

Eiríkur scooched closer to his brother, who hugged him, regretting how the younger nation had been exposed to the world he had tried to keep him from.

* * *

**Translations that aren't obvious:**

**Guten tag (German)- hello or good day or something like that.**

**Sasana (Irish (yes, this is a separate language))- England**

**Norsk- Norwegian for Norwegian (the language- a person is 'Nordmann' I believe)**

**Rosbif (French)- roast beef**

**Other Notes: **

**France and Monaco are siblings- I just threw that in there. Whether or not they are actual blood siblings or just say they are is up to you.**

**Certain British curse words are crossed out- mostly because I don't curse and have recently found out they're a bit more violent there than Americans realize. And the mental scene of England getting bleeped out every other word is hilarious to me.**

**The Scottish fry everything- I'm not joking. There is apparently a such thing as _fried haggis. _It's times like these I regret being a fourth Scotish...**

**America randomly introduces himself to everyone- Take a good look at him and tell me he wouldn't. Also, just saying, this won't be the last you'll see of him. I'll try to keep a bunch of nationalism from creeping in, though.**

**Faroese- yes, this is also a language. I'm not sure if any translators actually offer this as an option, though.**

**Rosbif and Frog- Fun fact, during WWI, the French called British trenches 'Rosbif Land' and the British called French trenches 'Frog Land'. Even when they were on the same side they still made fun of each other. **

**So, this was a somewhat humerous chapter with a bit of mood whiplash at the end. I kind of regret that ending, but can't think of a good reason to get rid of it.**

**Also not shown: Another day where Switzerland kicks not only England and France out but also Australia for somehow smuggling in his demonic koala and daring Italy to pet it, Romano starts yelling at Spain (but what else is new), and America annoys everyone.**

**Next chapter: Lukas decides to build a house on Jan Mayen because no one would ever even think to look for him there. Eiríkur gets wind of this and joins in.**


	8. 8: Vacation

**Chapter 8: Vacation**

"Hey, Lukas, last time you were over at my house did you-" Eiríkur yelled as he walked through the Norwegian's door (he had a key), stopping short upon seeing his brother stop dead in the middle of his living room, holding a box in his hands.

"Um… Lillebror, you came over at a bit of a bad time," Lukas said, shifting the box in his arms.

Eiríkur eyed it. "What's in the box?"

"Blankets."

"Something more specific would be nice."

Lukas set down the box next to his feet and fully turned to his brother. "You know Jan Mayen, that island I annexed a little while ago?"

"You mean that weirdly shaped island to the north of my home that doesn't have anything valuable?"

He nodded. "I figured that since it's there I may as well make a cabin there."

"Why? There's nothing there," Eiríkur pointed out.

"That's exactly why I am doing this. No one would actually think I would be crazy enough to have a place there, let alone try to stay there. I will have a place that I can stay when I am sick of dealing with all of the idiots that unfortunately make up the world."

The Icelander thought about it. That actually made a lot of sense. Not even Mikkel would think that Lukas would go there or even think of that island. It was the perfect hideout. "Can I help?"

Lukas smirked. "You just want access to it."

Eiríkur didn't even bother to protest. "Pretty much. Can I?"

The Norwegian pretended to consider it. "I don't know… The more people that know about it, the larger the change of it being found out…" Eiríkur just deadpanned a look at him. "Of course you can help. Just tell me whenever you decide to hide there."

"Thank you. Do you want me to help move anything there for you?" he asked.

Lukas looked back to the living room. "No, I only have a couple more small boxes to move. I will need help setting up when I finish, but for now just make yourself comfortable. Do not touch my coffee supply." On that note, he grabbed the box and headed back into his living room to pick up a couple more.

Meanwhile, Eiríkur didn't listen to his brother as usual and started brewing a cup of coffee in his kitchen. While doing this, he realized he had forgotten to ask his brother if he had stolen _his _coffee. Upon realizing this, the Icelander looked at the box he was holding.

It was the same kind he usually got.

"NORWAY!"

* * *

Two hours later, they were surprisingly almost done with furnishing the one room cabin. Of course, maybe it wasn't that surprising. The furniture basically consisted of a large bed, a couch, a radio, a small table with a couple of chairs, and a small kitchenette that Lukas had already set up.

Eiríkur was organizing the pantry and wondering where Lukas had managed to find all of it when said man came back in, carrying a few logs that he dropped in the empty fireplace. "Eiríkur, would you light the fire? I need to make sure the rest of the wood is secure." Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and went back outside.

Muttering under his breath, Eiríkur got up and went over to the fireplace, extracting his tome from his pocket and flipping to the spell he wanted. An incantation later, he nodded happily as a fire started, kneeling next to it and enjoying the warmth. Lukas came back in a minute later, shrugging off his coat and hanging it by the door before sitting next to his brother.

They sat in silence for a while before Eiríkur asked, "Are you sure that no one will find this place?"

Lukas nodded. "You saw me cast the wards. None should even realize this cabin exists unless either one of us tells them directly, even if they attempt to use magic or some kind of technology to find it."

Eiríkur nodded. "By the way, you've seemed to not have as bad of a cold, despite the fact that your economy… hasn't exactly gotten much better."

Answering the unspoken question, Lukas said, "Honestly, my economy has been bad for so long that it has stopped having much effect on my health. I do not know exactly how it works, but I am not complaining. Theoretically I could be sick for decades if it does not improve."

The Icelander nodded. That actually made a lot of sense. It also explained why he hadn't gotten ill from anything but volcano eruptions for as long as he could remember. He really didn't want to admit it even to himself, but he has never been very wealthy. That's probably why he has never felt guilty stealing- I mean borrowing Magnus' money.

He laid back on the floor, keeping his feet as close to the fire as possible without burning. Lukas stared impassively at said feet. "If you are going to do that, at least take off your socks. They reek."

"Like yours are any better."

"Go make yourself useful and cook dinner," he demanded, turning back and staring at the fire.

"Why should I? You actually owe me for stealing my coffee."

"When did I ever agree to that?"

"You lost any right to agree when you took it."

"I am your older brother. I can take your coffee anytime I want without any reprisal."

"By that logic I should be able to take Mr. Bunny anytime I want."

"Touch him and I will not care that you are my brother."

"...Lukas, it's a stuffed animal."

"It is _mine."_

"…How old are you again?"

"That has nothing to do with anything. I am allowed to still have a stuffed animal regardless of whichever age you choose to count. Especially considering that they did not exist when I was actually a child."

"You're still weird."

"So are you. How about this: you can either make dinner or call me 'big brother' for the rest of the night."

"Go make dinner, _big brother_."

Lukas glared at Eiríkur's triumphant smirk. "You were not supposed to take that option."

"Well, I did," he said, still smirking. "You can't always expect that to work. Now go cook. And could you please toss me a blanket, _dearest brother_?"

The Norwegian got up, still glaring at his brother, and stalked to the stove. Eiríkur curled up in a ball where he was, too lazy to get up and get a blanket from the bed himself.

* * *

Surprisingly, the Icelander kept to the terms and called him some variation of "brother" for the rest of the night, causing Lukas to suspect that his brother didn't mind it as much as he acted. He should not have given him that information, directly or indirectly. It would only fuel his determination.

Later, Lukas was reading when Eiríkur sat next to him on the couch, putting something in his lap. The blond immediately shut the book, glancing at the item he had given him. "If you want me to read to you, all you have to do is ask, you know."

"Sh-shut, up," Eiríkur stammered, face bright red and angled away from his brother. "I just found it in my attic a couple days ago and it didn't seem right to read it by myself, okay? Now just shut up and read."

Biting back the retort of how he can't read and shut up at the same time, Lukas smiled at his brother, reaching out and ruffling his silvery hair before opening the book of Norse Myths he himself had penned himself centuries ago.

"In ageless time before the creation there was the Yawning Gulf called Ginnungagap…"

A couple hours later, after having finished the tale of the war between the Æsir and Vanir, Lukas noticed that Eiríkur could barely keep his eyes open. He shut the book, saying, "I think that is enough for one day. We can continue some other time."

Eiríkur whined, not moving from where he was leaning on his brother. "No. Continue please, big brother."

"You are about to fall asleep. It is not as if you do not know what happens. Honestly, if I had not used magic to preserve this book, it would have fallen apart centuries ago."

Eiríkur made another sound of protest, still not moving. Lukas took a moment to admire the fact that his brother seemed to have reverted back to his younger self for the time being before he stood up and carried him to the bed, tucking him in before climbing in himself.

He was drifting off to sleep when Eiríkur cuddled up next to him and said in Icelandic, "I love you, big brother."

Lukas took a moment to make sure he had heard him correctly before replying, "I love you too, little brother."

Anyone looking upon them would clearly see the smiles upon the two stoic nations' faces.

* * *

**Notes:**

**Jan Mayen- a small island about 370 miles/600 kilometers north of Iceland under the control of Norway. It was annexed in the 1920s and officially made a part of the Kingdom of Norway in 1930. According to Wikipedia, it has 18 people living on it. Yeah, this would be the perfect place for Lukas and Eiríkur to hide out. If this information is off, please tell me because I didn't look anywhere but Wikipedia for information about it. And it is weirdly shaped, at least in my opinion.**

**Mr. Bunny- You know that pink bunny some people will draw Norway with? This is it. Also, I do not know if they had something like stuffed animals back in the 400s to 700s, but I'm going to guess no, considering how teddy bears only got their name when Theodore Roosevelt was president as they love to tell us in US history classes.**

**How old is Lukas?- I don't know. Like I mentioned above, I'm placing his, Mikkel, and Berwald's birth sometime between the Fall of Rome and the start of the Viking Age. Also, they know that Mikkel is older than Berwald (which he absolutely _despises_), but they don't know if he or Lukas is the oldest. Physically Mikkel is, but that doesn't mean anything to nations. Am I ever going to tell you? Nope. Am I going to imply which one is older? Maybe.**

**"In ageless time..."- The first sentence of _The Norse Myths_ by Heilan Yvette Grimes, which is the most complete English version of Norse Mythology I have read. I suggest reading it because of this. For the record, while I took the first sentence from there, it's not what Lukas is reading. For one, the version he wrote were the original versions, not the ones written after Christianity took over. And for future reference, I'm usually going to go with the name spellings they used there, so if they seem different than what you're used to, that's probably why.**

**Æsir and Vanir- The two races people usually consider to be the Norse gods, though there were a few Jotuns that were worshiped as gods/goddesses. The ****Æsir included Thor and Odin while the Vanir included Freja and Freyr, to name a couple of the more famous ones. Loki was a Jotun, not either of these. Just putting that out there.**

**So, this chapter doesn't really have much plot to it. Honestly, I was just in the mood to write pretty pointless fluff, especially since next chapter begins the WWII arc. That's also the reason why it's so short and there's no real time frame on it.**

**Also, does anyone know who to type accent marks and other symbols used in different languages on an American keyboard? I know you can somehow- my first year French teacher told us how, but I can't remember. If any of you can tell me, it would be appreciated.**


	9. 9: Weserübung

**So, I kind of lied about what this chapter would be about. I meant to do it on the lead up to war, but I figured you guys would want a chapter in the next few weeks, so I skipped that and went straight to the invasion of Denmark and Norway. I apologize if you were looking forward to that. **

**Also, this doesn't actually have Lukas or Eiríkur interacting, but it still provides background for the coming chapters.**

**I should also mention that I am taking a bit of liberty with the time frame. I know the invasions started the same day, but I don't have access to a complete rundown, so if I got some sequence of events wrong, I apologize. I also don't know how fast Iceland got news about the invasion, though I guess that it was sooner rather than later, considering how they were in a union with Denmark at the time.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Weserübung**

April 8, 1940

Oslo, Norway

Lukas swore, throwing the letter onto his table.

He'd had a bad feeling upon finding that it was from Mikkel, knowing that something was very wrong if he had somehow convinced a fairy to take it to him, especially since he couldn't even _see _them unless Lukas summoned one of them. He hadn't expected _this,_ however.

Germany had apparently decided that Denmark was a great target, and had invaded. He wasn't an idiot. Even if his insane dictator was… well, insane, he had to have a better reason to attack his neighboring country than just "it was a good opportunity". Denmark would be a great location to attack the other two Scandinavian countries, and he doubted they would attack Sweden, especially considering that the Allies seemed interested in keeping the Germans out of his land.

He picked up the letter, reading it over again. From what Mikkel had written, he was going to advise his boss to surrender. Lukas almost couldn't believe it, but then reminded himself that no matter how he acted, the Dane was not a complete idiot. He would know that he couldn't hold them off for long, not with how large the German military was. Denmark was an extremely flat country, making it easy for tanks and other vehicles to move around, and he didn't believe they had the largest army, though he did not know for sure. Admittedly, it was probably the best course of action for them. Giving up now also considerably lessened the chance of Iceland getting involved, meaning that his brother was most likely safe from the Nazis for now.

His people would not be so quick to surrender, however.

Lukas threw the note into the fire, not lingering to watch it burn, having things to do before he left his home.

First order of business: the basement. While he had destroyed or hidden most of the more dangerous items upon moving into this house a couple decades ago and many of the items could not be used by non-magical nations, he wasn't taking any chances.

Some of the things he just put into a hidden compartment he had added upon making the house, figuring it wouldn't be too bad if they fell into Germany's hands. He still cast some strong wards upon closing the compartment, though, because it was better to be safe than sorry.

As for the rest of the items… Lukas stared at the bag he had filled, trying to decide if he really wanted to send them the first place that had come to mind. He couldn't think of a better place, however- Svalbard and Jan Mayen had every chance of getting searched by Germany, and even the miniscule chances of them getting past the wards on his homes there were too much. Germany could have another magical nation on his side, for all he knew.

The Norwegian sighed, teleporting the bag to Eiríkur's home. He didn't want to worry him, but realized that it wouldn't matter once he got the news. As an afterthought, he sent his supply of coffee to him as well after making himself one last cup. It would make up for the amount he had taken from his brother and keep any of his enemies from getting it. Yes, he was that spiteful. It was _coffee, _after all.

That done, Lukas gathered up some of his clothes and other possessions he wished to keep with him. Putting them into a magically enlarged pack, he went outside, locking the door behind him and destroying the extra key. He updated the wards around his house, finishing just as he heard a cannon sound.

Lukas whirled around, staring at the direction it had come from. He didn't know if he had actually heard it or if it had been due to the fact that he _was _Norway, but he knew for sure that the Germans were invading and were sailing up the Oslofjord as he processed this new information. Concentrating for a moment, he realized that his capital was not the only place they were attacking.

The personification smiled grimly. "If you expect me to give up that easily, _Tyskland_, you will be sorely disappointed. You will regret messing with my people." With that, he teleported to his capital, planning to help get his government to a safer place.

* * *

Reykjavík, Iceland- The same day

Eiríkur stalked out of the meeting room, not waiting to actually be dismissed by his boss. He ducked into the bathroom, checked to see if anyone else was in there, and teleported out of the building.

He appeared next to a small pond and immediately started cursing in every single language he knew (which was a lot, since he had picked up on a remarkable number of profanities during the World Conferences) and violently kicking loose stones into the water. After about ten minutes of this, he finally ran out of profanities and sat down, breathing heavily.

The personification sat there for a few minutes, staring at the clear water and wishing he could do something about what was happening. He heard something fly up behind him and felt it land on top of his head. "Get off," he snapped, attempting to throw it off.

Mr. Puffin easily evaded the Icelander's arm and hopped down to rest beside his owner. "Well someone's in a bad mood today," he remarked. Eiríkur glared at the puffin, wishing that it wasn't able to talk. "What's got yer panties in a knot, tough guy?"

"Could you be less crude?"

"But it's no fun not to be!"

Still glaring at the puffin, the Icelander sarcastically said, venom practically dripping from his voice, "Well, it can't be because Germany is a complete idiot and decided to start another stupid war in Europe, decided it would be an _amazing _idea to attack Denmark, and that idiot decided to just give up! I'm not mad about that _at all_!"

"Geeze, calm down tough guy. We all knew the drunk guy was crazy."

"And what's more," Eiríkur continued, seemingly not having heard his pet, "All this was just a freaking front! They're really after my brother, and they're running up his fjords as I'm telling you this!"

He blinked, realizing what he had just said. "Wait… how do I know that? We only got confirmation that Denmark was attacked and have already surrendered… there was nothing mentioned about Norway…"

The puffin gave the equivalent of a shrug. "Aren't you and that snarky guy brothers? Maybe you know 'cause of that."

"Maybe…" Eiríkur said absently. He already knew that being blood brothers had some effects. This could be one of them, because he honestly couldn't think of another explanation as to how he could know that his brother's home was being invaded when no one else did.

He closed his eyes and buried his head in his knees. He wasn't an idiot. Germany had been building up his military for years, waiting for the chance to rage a second war in revenge. Unlike last time, though, he probably had good reasons to take over Norway, like to gain control over the North Sea to prevent Britain from doing the same. And to add to that he wasn't currently tied up in France or Russia, though no doubt he would be soon. And Lukas… he doubted he would willingly surrender, but he didn't see how he could win this fight. Unwillingly, a few tears tried to escape, causing him to squeeze his eyes even further in an attempt to repress them.

Mr. Puffin hopped closer to him, leaning against his owner in a gesture of comfort. "Hey, don't be sad. Snarky guy is too stubborn to just give up."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

The next day

Eiríkur didn't look up as his boss declared that a regent would replace King Christian X and that Iceland would take control of their foreign affairs. He supposed that he could at least act like he cared, but no one even seemed to notice him sitting in the shadows, so why bother? They weren't announcing anything that he didn't already know or could have guessed.

All he could think about was how far Germany had already penetrated. Denmark was already collaborating with him, and the Icelander couldn't help but feel a little bit irritated. Mikkel used to be a Viking, for crying out loud. He couldn't have held out for more than a few hours? He shook his head, trying to tell himself that thinking about it wouldn't help anything and just make himself angry. Mikkel probably had a good reason for this, like not getting bombed to oblivion.

And then there was the fact they had invaded Norway. He didn't know how far they had gotten, but he prayed to whoever would listen that Germany hadn't captured Lukas. Just capturing the personification of the land wouldn't necessarily make the actual country automatically surrender, but he didn't want to see his brother in the hands of that Nazi. He wondered if he could just go and drag his brother to his home, but realized that it wouldn't work. While he could get past Lukas' legendary stubbornness with his own, there was still the fact that he had no right to force him to leave yet. As far as he knew, the Norwegian army was still fighting against the invasion, and their king and his government was still in the country. Forcing Lukas to come with him wasn't fair to anyone, no matter what he personally wanted.

All Eiríkur could do was pray. He didn't know who he was praying to- nations as a whole weren't all that religious- but he just hoped that _someone _would listen and keep his brother safe.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Tyskland (Norwegian)- Germany**

**Other Notes: **

**Operation Weserübung- The German name for the invasions of Denmark and Norway that began on April 8, 1940.**

**Summoning Mythical Creatures- Just a headcannon of mine, but I think that if Lukas (or Eiríkur, though he doesn't do it often) summons a troll or other creature, anyone in the vicinity can see it. If one of them just shows up, only those with the Sight can see them.**

**Allies interested in Norway- For many of the same reasons as Germany, the Allies considered invading Norway. In fact, they started laying mines at about the same time the German invasion started, though I'm not sure how much it helped.**

**Denmark Surrendered- After only a few hours and realizing the consequences of a prolonged campaign, Denmark surrendered and collaborated with the Germans for the rest of the war. (That didn't mean that there wasn't resistance, however. They managed to evacuate 99 percent of their Jewish population to Sweden in 1943, which I really want to write about.)**

**Norway not giving up easily- Resistance to the invasion lasted until June 7, making Norway the country to resist the Nazis the longest if you don't count the Soviet Union, who was never completely occupied.**

**Canon shot- referring to the sinking of the German cruiser Blücher at Oscarsborg Fortress. The wreckage apparently still lies at the bottom of the Oslofjord. The sinking apparently slowed the advance up that fjord long enough for the royal family, government, and royal treasury to escape.**

**Germany regretting the invasion- I'm not sure that regret is the best word for it, but not only did much of Norway's large merchant fleet join the allied cause and took part in pretty much every Allied operation for the rest of the war, the Nazis sent tons of soldiers to guard the country from an Allied invasion (which Churchill actually tried to plan but kept getting shot down) when they could have used the men in other places (*cough*Russia and Normandy*cough*).**

**Nations aren't that religious- Another headcannon. While there are exceptions (like a hypothetical Israel would definitely be Jewish, or Vatican would be Roman Catholic), most nations don't really subscribe to one religion. Sometimes they will go to a church, but part of the problem is that in many countries there are different people practicing different religions and there's the fact that their main religion may have changed multiple times over the centuries.**

**So, this chapter probably isn't as long as you were expecting. It wasn't as long as I was expecting, either. However, I figured it was best to keep it short and not get into the entire Norwegian Campaign, considering that this story is about Lukas and Eiríkur's relationship and not about WWII.**

**Speaking of that, like I said at the start, they didn't actually interact much. I had a plan for Eiríkur to visit Lukas after Denmark was attacked but before Norway was, but then I found out that I got my dates wrong (again) and had to change it. But I did actually add Mr. Puffin, so be happy.**

**Also, thank you to everyone that told me how to get different keyboards. Now I just need to figure out how to work the French one and I'm set.**

**Next Chapter: Operation Fork.**


	10. 10: Fork

**Chapter 10: Fork**

May 10, 1940

Eiríkur was not happy.

Granted, he hadn't been happy since he found out that the stupid Germans had decided it was a great idea to invade Norway and Denmark, but now he was just one step away from finding the idiots that were responsible for _this_ and throw them into one of his volcanoes.

It started when he was woken up from one of the best nights of sleep he'd gotten that month to a sound that his half-asleep mind couldn't quite place. As he fully woke up, he finally remembered where he had heard it before. A decade or so ago, Lukas had taken him to a weird plane show in America for some reason (he decided to just leave it at "Lukas is weird"). The sound was exactly the same those planes had made as they passed over them.

The Icelander swore, throwing a shirt on and running outside. As he had thought, he could barely see a plane disappearing on the horizon. Going back inside, he stalked back up to his room while thinking about this.

Eiríkur knew he didn't have any of those planes, and he honestly didn't see how his government could strike a deal with someone that does without him knowing. So that meant that there was even more proof that none of those stupid Allies and Axis knew what the definition of neutrality was. If Lukas knew that one of them were…

He immediately forced his mind from the subject of his brother. A month later and he still had no idea how he was going to go looking for the stubborn personification when it came down to it. While Norway still hadn't surrendered, the Germans were in control of many of the major cities in the Southern, Western, and Eastern regions, including Oslo. It was only a matter of time before their government was forced to flee or get captured and either killed or forced to collaborate. And knowing Lukas, he would refuse to leave with them.

Groaning in frustration at the fact he couldn't stop thinking about that, he got dressed and went to his kitchen, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get any more sleep before whoever it was actually arrived.

As he brewed a cup of coffee, Eiríkur toyed with the thought of going through the tomes Lukas had given to him for safekeeping and seeing if any of them would conjure up a storm to keep the ships away. He banished the thought, realizing that it would have just as much of a chance of backfiring on his country as it would to actually work. Besides, whoever it was would just try again later. Using the various spells Lukas had taught him for use in pranks wasn't out of the question, however.

As he drank his coffee, the Icelander wondered who would be coming on the ships- the British or the Germans. The French were another option, but he honestly could not figure out any reason why they would be bothering to invade his land when they had far bigger problems. Considering how the Germans were the aforementioned "bigger problem", it was probably those stupid Brits.

Finishing his drink, he set it down and leaned back in his chair, attempting to concentrate on the coming ships. It took a minute, but he managed to pinpoint the three ships. He frowned. Only three of them? Really? He knew that his military was nonexistent and there weren't too many people living here, but still…

Shaking the thought away, the personification continued to concentrate on them. They'd be in Reykjavík in a couple hours. Of course they'd go for his capitol. Finally, before breaking concentration, he tried to see if there was another nation with them. Lukas had taught him how to check, but it wasn't always too reliable. To his surprise, however, he believed there was one there, though he couldn't be completely sure.

"At least _someone _is nice enough to actually explain things to me," Eiríkur muttered, getting up and throwing his mug in the sink. Giving his kitchen and living room a glance and deciding that the rooms were clean enough, he checked to make sure he had his tome on him and cast an invisibility spell on himself as he left to head to the harbor.

* * *

After a few hours (Eiríkur actually fell asleep leaning against a wall, it took so long), one of the ships _finally _arrived. A small crowd of his people had gathered at this point, and judging by the snippets of conversation he could hear, some of them had guessed what its purpose was. Actually, he amended as he crept closer, unseen, they had seen the stupid British soldiers disembark. It was a little hard to hide their purpose after that.

Ignoring his people for now, the personification kept an eye on the disembarking soldiers, glancing at those already on land every once in a while. If another nation had come, they would be on the first ship to arrive.

It also gave him a chance to study the marines that Britain had deigned to send. That was probably not the best idea, because Eiríkur noticed just how poorly equipped they were. His citizens probably couldn't tell, but he had spent enough time with his brother and Mikkel to recognize a well-equipped battalion when he saw one, and this was not one of those. He couldn't help but feel a bit insulted. Could they at least have sent _trained _soldiers to invade?

Lost in those thoughts, he almost missed the other nation. Luckily, the bond nation had stopped not too far from him, sighing as he watched the soldiers. He quietly said something in French that Eiríkur thought was along the lines of "Even they don't see me…"

Eiríkur examined the nation. He looked a lot like America, but not quite. For one, he had longer hair, though not anywhere near long enough to make him look like a girl. It also wasn't near as messy, and instead of a thick cowlick, he had a long, thin, and loopy curl falling in front of his face. The Icelander idly wondered what it did, if anything, but didn't let himself think about it too much. His eyes, instead of being a bright blue, were a surprising shade of violet, which surprised the Icelander. He added this mystery country to the short list of people he knew of that had that color of eyes.

After a minute of trying to place where he had seen the nation before, he gave up and grabbed the nation, knowing that the invisibility spell would cover him as well and that whoever it was would be able to see him as well. Ignoring the shocked gasp, he dragged the (unfortunately taller) nation with him to a deserted street a little ways away.

Letting him go and muttering the words to dispel the invisibility, Eiríkur turned to glare at the other nation. "First, who in the name of Thor are you?"

"I'm Canada," he said in a surprisingly quiet voice considering how he wouldn't be surprised if he was related to America. Then again, that may be why he was so quiet. "My land is north of the United States and west of Greenland."

Eiríkur nodded, thinking that something about his name seemed a little weird. It was pronounced the same in Icelandic, so that couldn't be it. Maybe it was different in Norwegian? Filing that away, he instead said, "What are you doing here? I'm _neutral, _if you guys even know what that means anymore."

To his surprise, Canada sighed. "That's what I told them, eh. Then again, Scotland was the only one to listen to me, and the day England actually listens to him will be the day he says that he's in love with France. I'm really sorry about all of this."

Eiríkur fumed. Canada was being too nice. He couldn't blow up at him, and he couldn't just leave to blow something up. The other nation noticed this and said, "If you want to yell and rant about this, I promise that I won't take it personally. My brother is America, after all."

He didn't need to tell the Icelander twice.

"I HATE all of you stupid Europeans! First you have to start tons of ***** wars like you have no idea what the word peace means! And look at what's going on now, there is no **** concept of neutrality unless you're Switzerland! Does it occur to anyone that some of us don't want to get involved in a war? No, it apparently doesn't! Instead we get idiots like Germany, who just invades anyone who even exists, and England, who's almost as bad!

"And, along with that, there's that ***** even bigger of a **** idiot named _Sweden, _who apparently can't bring himself to help out his neighbor, and will probably be the reason why my brother will be taken away from me _again! _Though Lukas isn't helping, because he's probably telling himself some **** like 'I have to stay, my people need me' and not even giving any ***** about how that won't help anything and how I can't even get a good night of sleep because I'm having nightmares about what will happen when that **** Germany finally stops any resistance in Norway! I HATE ALL OF YOU!"

Eiríkur finally stopped, breathing heavily and attempting to calm himself down. Surprisingly, he felt slightly better after that. Only _slightly, _however.

"…You're worried about your brother?"

The Icelander stared at Canada. "You know Icelandic?" he asked, shocked. The only other nation he knew that could speak or read his language was Lukas.

Canada shrugged. "I'm nowhere near fluent. Some of your people moved to my country, and I took some time to teach some immigrants how to speak English. It's kind of hard to not pick up some foreign words, isn't it, eh?"

Eiríkur sighed. "He's my older brother, but he's an idiot! Why can't he see reason?" He had to turn away so that the Canadian wouldn't be able to see the tears in his eyes.

"I'm worried about France, too," he admitted. When the Icelander turned around, he added, "France raised me, and he actually did a good job of it, despite what you may think. I know that if it comes down to it, though, I can convince him to flee to either my country or England. Why don't you go to Norway and convince your brother to come with you? It's not as if there's anything wrong with that."

"You think I haven't thought of that?" Eiríkur growled. "I would love nothing more than to bash my brother's head in and drag him back with me. The problem is that I have no clue where he could be, and I can't figure out a way to justify my absence to my boss without explaining what I'm going to try to do."

"What if I told him that you were going to the United Kingdom to talk to England about this?" Canada offered. "That will give you a couple weeks at the very least. More troops will be arriving in a week or two to replace those that are here now. At least one of the ships will probably leave and you can act like you went with it."

Eiríkur stared at his fellow nation. "Canada, how did you figure that out in only a couple of seconds?"

Sais personification smiled. "Scotland taught me how to abuse loopholes and think outside the box. I'm not quite as good as him, but he is a lot older than me."

Eiríkur smiled for the first time in weeks. "Canada… thank you. If there's anything-"

"Don't thank me yet. Just thank me when you get Norway out."

* * *

**Translations: None, but you can look up Icelandic swear words to replace those * in Eiríkur's rant with, if you want.**

**Other Notes:**

**Operation Fork- The codename for the Invasion of Iceland on May 10, a month after Norway and Denmark were invaded. It wasn't really planned that well, most of it being planned on the way there. As mentioned later in the chapter, the British marines were not well equipped or trained. Honestly, if Iceland had had a military, I don't think that it would have succeeded, but the British probably would have sent a better force if that had been the case, not three ships and 740 ish men.**

**Fun fact: The British invaded because they feared the Germans would. Germany had no plans to do so, and in fact actually planned their own invasion in retaliation. It got dropped, though.**

**Canada came- because Canada is nice and thought that someone should explain to Eiríkur why he was being invaded and it sure wasn't going to be England.**

**Canada's name seems weird- Okay, I subscribe to the Canada is Vinland theory. I couldn't help myself and threw the reference in. It won't play a part in this story, however- Eiríkur was too young at the time and doesn't recognize the adult Vinland and I have no plans for Lukas and him to interact. **

**Icelanders moved to Canada- A lot of them apparently did in the 1800s. There's even a part of Canada that's apparently sometimes called "New Iceland" due to this.**

**France is a good father figure- Personal opinion, because Canada had to turn out normal _somehow._**

**Huh. That's less notes than I thought.**

**And I'm sorry that Eiríkur and Lukas still haven't interacted, and that Lukas doesn't even show up, but like Eiríkur said, he's probably wandering around Northern Norway and causing trouble for the Germans. Don't worry, he'll be able to yell at his brother next chapter.**

**I also don't feel like I did the invasion justice, but I have the same problem I had with the invasion of Norway- this fic would turn out to just be about that if I went into detail.**


	11. 11: Convincing

**Edit: wow this is embarrassing. I forgot to put the title down. Sorry. I also fixed a couple of errors I noticed.**

**Do not expect an update this fast ever again. I just had a lot of free time today.**

**Chapter 11: Convincing**

Eiríkur wondered whether Loki had anything to do with what day he was finally able to sneak out of the country to go look for his brother.

Okay, Loki didn't actually exist, but how else could you explain the fact that he was able to leave on May 17, Norway's Constitution Day? It was as if the Æsir were laughing at him…

Eiríkur shook his head. There was no point in thinking about that cruel irony. He turned to Canada, asking, "Are you sure that everything will be fine?"

The often forgotten nation nodded. "I'll send that telegram you gave me when I arrive in the UK before I leave for France. Good luck with finding Norway," he said before walking to the leaving ship.

''Thank you," the Icelander said. Canada just turned and smiled before disappearing.

Eiríkur turned away, casting an invisibility spell before teleporting to his brother's lands. His first place to look would be the north.

* * *

He still hadn't found a trace of the Norwegian by the start of June. If Eiríkur hadn't been worried about someone finding him, he would've cursed loud enough to start an avalanche with the remaining snow on the mountains. As it was, he groaned and collapsed on the ground, glaring at the sky.

He was running out of time. From what he had gotten out of some of the Fey, things had quickly gone from bad to worse in France, and the British were attempting to evacuate as many men as possible. Apparently, they were actually having a lot of success with that. Either way, however, they wouldn't be in any position to help the Norwegians out any time soon. He didn't know whether or not their king and government had already left, but they would have to soon if they haven't already.

Oh, and his boss possibly suspected something at this point, he added as an afterthought.

Eiríkur sighed, pulling himself up. He couldn't give up yet. After stretching, he started walking again, half formed plans to find some of the fey and interrogate them about his brother's whereabouts running through his mind.

However, he had barely taken a few steps when someone grabbed him and pushed him against the tree. The Icelander looked up at the attacker's face to see his brother. Any relief he may have felt when he saw his eyes.

Lukas was furious.

"What do you think you are doing, _Island?" _the Norwegian hissed, causing Eiríkur to involuntary flinch. He had only seen his brother this angry a couple times, and it had never been directed at him. Now he knew why Mikkel had always stopped short whenever Lukas seemed to actually get ticked off. His reputation as the fiercest Viking warrior to exist was definitely not exaggerated.

To calm himself, Eiríkur reminded himself that no matter how mad Lukas had gotten, he never once turned that anger towards him. In fact, more than once that anger was directed towards those that had threatened him, and his brother had admitted that he would sooner die than willingly harm him. With this in mind, he found himself saying, "What do you think I am doing here, _Noregur__?"_

Lukas narrowed his eyes even more upon hearing him call him by his nation name. "Eiríkur. Leave. _Now_."

"Heck no," the Icelander replied, refusing to let the Norwegian cow him into submission. "If I'm leaving, you're coming with me."

"You are being ridiculous. Just teleport yourself back to Iceland before something happens."

"No, you're being the ridiculous one here!" Eiríkur snapped, not caring how mad Lukas was anymore. "What good will staying here do? All you'll accomplish is getting captured by Germany, and don't even bother trying to deny it! You may be too much of an idiot to see that, but I do!"

At this point, he ripped his brother's hands off his shoulders, glaring at his shocked brother. "You probably think that staying will be the best thing for your people. Well guess what: it won't. If it does have any type of effect, it will probably be the complete opposite of what you believe. What will possibly have a positive effect is you _not_ getting captured and staying free. Besides, at any time now, your leaders will probably leave for Britain at any point now. Our rules say that you are free to leave with them and stay wherever you choose.

"And finally, if you want me to leave without you, you'll have to forcibly teleport me, and you said centuries ago you would never use magic on me without my permission. Do you really want to break that, _brother?"_ he finished, practically spitting out that last word. He managed to keep any fear that his brother would choose to break that promise and stay from straying on his face, even though he didn't know what he would do if he did.

* * *

Lukas stared at his younger brother. When the fey had told him that Eiríkur was in his lands looking for him, all he had cared about was the fact that he could be captured and held ransom. Anyone that had met them would know that the Icelander was the one person he would do most anything for.

For the first time since Eiríkur had been born, he had been furious at him. He felt a slight stab of guilt at that fact now that he had calmed down, and attempted to rationalize it with the fact that he was under too much stress with the invasion. The fact remained that he had broken his vow to never unleash his anger at him, however.

He stepped back, closing his eyes so that he couldn't see his brother's furious face. Lukas tried to tell himself that what he said about getting captured and staying wasn't true, but he couldn't quite convince himself. The Icelander hadn't said anything that he hadn't already thought of the past few weeks as his situation deteriorated.

And as for the last threat… Eiríkur was calling his bluff. He knew that no matter how mad Lukas may get, he would always stop short of forcibly casting magic on him, knowing that he would never forgive himself for doing so. If he left, it would have to be voluntary, and it didn't seem like he would leave if he didn't come with him. He cursed how his stubbornness had infected the younger nation.

"Eiríkur… please," Lukas begged as a last resort. "Please leave. Go back to your lands. You'll be safe there."

"You'll be safe there too," Eiríkur said softly. "Big brother, please come with me. Don't leave me alone. _Please."_

"_No! Big brother, don't go! Don't leave me! Please stay with me! Big brother!"_

Lukas cursed. Why did he have to remember when he was forced to leave now? Why did his brother have to be his one weakness? Why did Eiríkur have to realize that fact? _Why?_

He looked at his brother. Big mistake. Though he tried to bury it in a glare, he could easily see that Eiríkur was worried that he would choose to force him to leave. The fear in those violet eyes dispelled any lingering resistance. Lukas wrapped his brother in a hug. "Teleport us to your home," he whispered. "Quickly, before I convince myself this is a mistake."

He heard Eiríkur almost sob in relief before chanting the words. Lukas closed his eyes, silently apologizing to his people and promising them that he would come back.

Like the promise he had made to his brother about not using magic on him, he would keep this one.

* * *

Later that night, Lukas was curled under the covers in his bed in his brother's home, staring at the wall without really seeing it.

He couldn't stop thinking that this was a mistake. He couldn't shake the thought that if he stayed, they might be able to stop the German advance. He tried to tell himself that it wouldn't make a difference, but the thoughts wouldn't stop.

Knowing that those thoughts would linger, the moment he had arrived at Eiríkur's home, he had ripped the teleportation spell out of his tome and burned the page before ordering the Icelander to ward his home to prevent him from teleporting out, just in case he would still find a way. He didn't believe that he would be desperate enough to do that, but he would not take any chances.

The door creaked open, but Lukas didn't move. There was only one person it could be.

"Bróðir?" Eiríkur's voice asked.

"You can come in," Lukas said quietly.

His brother immediately closed the door before climbing under the covers. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Lukas shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But I forced you to leave, when you obviously didn't want to."

Lukas sighed. Of course he would be repentant now, when nothing could be changed. "Lillebror," he said, turning to face him, "you did what I would do if our positions were reversed. There is nothing you need atone for. As you said in that fairly impressive rant earlier, you have not gone against any laws, nation or human."

Eiríkur scotched closer to his brother and pulled him into a hug, saying, "Though I am glad you're safe, big brother. " Lukas just held him, needing the comfort more than the other did.

As the Icelander fell asleep, Lukas stayed awake. He just laid there and listened to Eiríkur's steady breathing, trying to convince himself that everything would turn out okay. It was times like this that he wished he had the ability to see the future, just so that he could know that this would end. He did his best to keep himself mostly composed, not wanting to take the chance of Eiríkur waking up and seeing him fall apart.

He had to stay strong for him. His brother may suspect that he's not as fine with this arrangement as he acted, but he still didn't need to see his older brother fall apart before his eyes.

No younger brother did.

* * *

**Notes:**

**May 17- Reinforcements arrived to relieve the British marines stationed in Iceland. I have no idea if any of the original soldiers left that day, so if they didn't, I'm sorry for getting it wrong. The irony was just a little bit too good to pass up.**

**Bad to worse in France- You all probably know this already, but France did not do very well in the beginning of the war. In slight defense of the French, they had troops in the wrong places. A lot of them were in the southern part of France or in Belgium or the Netherlands, not where Germans had entered the country. Though to be honest, they were trying to fight the war as if it was still the First World War, which didn't help anything. The evacuation mentioned is what is known as the Miracle of Dunkirk, which is also on the list of events I want to write about at some point.**

"**Our rules"- Yet another headcannon. (You guys are probably sick of all of these.) Nations have unwritten rules that they adhere to. One of them is the whole human/country names thing I mentioned a few chapters ago. The one mentioned here is that if their government or a large group of their people flee to another country during a war, the personification has the choice of either going with them, going to another country they have ties with, or staying with their people. No, I did not think of this just to get Lukas and Eiríkur to spend the war together. I actually had the headcannon that Netherlands hanged out with Canada during the war long before this, and while I know that his queen and some of her children stayed there and one was even born while there, his king stayed in England, I believe. Besides, I could have Lukas just use magic to bug his brother rather than use magic to visit his government in exile on occasion.**

**Lukas won't use magic on Eiríkur- Unlike a lot of people that like to think Lukas would make Eiríkur a little kid again the first chance he got, I have never really seen that. I personally think that he would rather cast a spell to go back to the days when they were younger than have a de-aged brother in the modern day. My personal opinion, though.**

**So, Lukas isn't in the best state at the moment. Would you be if your country was being overrun? More about this will come up in the next few chapters.**


	12. 12: Comfort

**So, I went back and edited last chapter. If I do something embarrassing like forgetting the chapter title again, please tell me. Sorry if you got a email about that.**

**Chapter 12: Comfort**

Eiríkur was worried.

He had just found out from one of the Fey that Norway had officially surrendered to Germany. Knowing his brother, he was not going to take this well and there was no possible way that he didn't already.

At least they managed to get the government out before that... It would be far worse if they hadn't...

The Icelander tried to open the door, frowning when he found that it was locked. That didn't mean anything, right? Maybe Lukas just locked the door because he was always trying to get him to...

Opening it with his key (and thanking whatever urge had made him decide to bring it with him for once), he silently crept into his house. No sign of Lukas anywhere. There was only the mug he had used earlier in the sink, so it didn't even look like his brother had even been out of his room to have _coffee_, which he _never_ went without without tons of complaining, and _only_ shared with him (Mikkel had found that out the hard way).

Eiríkur was really scared now.

He went to the Norwegian's room, but couldn't even put his hand on the doorknob before he was rebuffed by an extremely strong ward.

He stumbled back, more out of shock than because of the actual ward. Eiríkur hissed out a swear word as he realized just how bad this was.

The last time Lukas had sealed himself in a room was when the Black Death was going around. Unlike that time, however, it didn't seem like he had forgotten to ward it strong enough to keep the Icelander out. Now his only hope of getting in was forcing his way past the ward.

Eiríkur grimaced. This was going to suck.

He took a deep breath and gathered up his energy. To a normal person, it would look like he was just standing there. To another nation, it would almost look like he was surrounded by blue fire.

After a moment of this, he thrust out his hands. The blue fire rushed towards the door, coming in contact with the ward and shattering it.

That done, Eiríkur fell back against the opposite wall, gasping heavily. He groaned. _Note to self: walk to the meeting with my boss tomorrow._

After at least five minutes of regaining enough energy to even move, he got up, stifling a groan at the effort it cost. Another minute of leaning on the wall, he creaked the door open.

The Icelander barely restrained himself from crying out in shock. His brother was curled up in the fetal position, head buried in his knees. As he watched, he saw him shake as if silently sobbing.

Eiríkur felt like sobbing with him. The last time he had seen Lukas like this was during the plague, and he _really_ did not like to remember that time. He cautiously walked toward his brother, softly saying, "Storebror?"

Lukas seemed to curl into an even tighter ball, which hadn't seemed possible before. "Little brother, go. You don't need to see me like this," he said so quietly that the Icelander's ears barely registered it.

Eiríkur obviously didn't listen to him. Instead he slowly walked to the bed and eased himself onto it. The Norwegian seemed to be slowly scooting away from him. If it had been any other time, he would have snickered because it was kind of funny to watch. Knowing what had caused this, he couldn't bring himself to do that, however, and it only served to make him depressed.

The Icelander eyed a certain improbable strand of hair of his brother's. He really did not want to do this. It was weird and completely out of character for his brother, plus Lukas tended to get really annoyed at whoever did it. However, it was preferable to this, and he really didn't have the energy to drag him out of his stupor the hard way.

He sighed, saying, "Please don't kill me for this later," before grabbing Lukas' floating strand of hair and attaching it to his head.

The effects happened immediately. Instead of curling up and trying to scoot away from Eiríkur, Lukas immediately latched onto him and started clutching him like he was about to fade while muttering half-formed words that didn't make any sense and generally acting more affectionate than anyone would think possible.

Resigning himself to the fact that nothing he could do would detach him, the Icelander sighed and made himself comfortable. It was a testament to how drained he was from breaking the seal that he almost immediately fell asleep even with his brother acting creepily out of character beside him.

* * *

Lukas groaned as he woke up a few hours later. He reached out a hand to rub his head, freezing when he felt his curl detach from his head upon touch. He cursed under his breath. A certain Icelander was going to get punished for this.

The Norwegian sat up, still disoriented. This is why no one was allowed to touch it, much less attempt to attach it to his head. Unfortunately, he couldn't kill his brother because he would most likely regret it later, even if it wouldn't have any real permanent effects.

Lukas dragged himself out of the room, smelling coffee. He found his brother in the kitchen, staring into a steaming cup of the elixir of life like a zombie. Without saying anything, the Norwegian snatched the cup and drank a good portion of it in one sip.

Eiríkur blinked slowly, staring at the place where his cup had been. After his sleep deprived mind processed what had just happened, he yelled, "NOREGUR! Give me back my coffee!"

Lukas' only response was his patented Norwegian Death Glare. "You deserve to go without the elixir of life for what you did earlier."

"All I did was grab your floating curl! And besides, you gave me that coffee because you didn't want the Ger-" he froze before finishing, probably scared that he would trigger an episode like earlier.

Lukas closed his eyes and sipped at the coffee. "Eiríkur," he began softly, "I am not going to say that I am completely fine. I most likely will not be until this war is over. But I will not let myself act like I did earlier."

Eiríkur didn't say anything for awhile. When the Norwegian opened his eyes again, he saw that his brother staring at the table, a forlorn expression on his face. "Eiríkur? Litli bróðir?"

"Why does this always have to happen?" the Icelander whispered. "Why does someone always have to be fighting? Why can't we just get along?"

Lukas didn't answer. He had no answer. The best he could think of would be the fact that the humans didn't understand how pointless fighting each other and waging war was, but even some nations didn't seem to comprehend that, or at least didn't act like they do.

Instead, he just sat next to his brother and held him. "It will not be forever, Little Brother," he whispered in his ear. "Nothing ever lasts forever."

He just hoped that Ragnarök wouldn't be the thing to end it.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Litli bróðir (Icelandic)- little brother**

**Notes:**

**June 10, 1940- Norway officially surrenders to Germany.**

**June 7- The King and government flee to the UK. (By the way, can I complain about how I finally found this information after I finish and post chapter 11, when I was trying to fit it in?)**

**The Black Death- You should all know what this was. Go look it up if you don't. Anyway, Norway was one of the hardest hit by it. I heard somewhere that a third of its population died, but I'm not sure how reliable that is. Either way, Lukas probably spent most of the outbreak bedridden and inadvertently scaring Eiríkur. Which is why neither of them like to remember it.**

**Weird blue fire surrounding Eiríkur- You know that weird, ominous aura that sometimes surrounds Russia and some other countries? Well, if a nation can use magic, they can potentially actually use it consciously to help with spells and other things like that, like getting through wards. Why does his look like blue fire? 1. It looks cool. 2. The background of his flag is blue. 3. _Ice_land_. _What color other than white do people make ice? And 4. Blue fire is the hottest type of fire, which fits due to the many volcanoes in Iceland.**

**Curls- Actually not my headcannon this time. I saw a(n unfortunately incomplete) fic about the Bad Friends Trio running around and seeing what the curls do. It never got to Norway's, but it got me thinking. First, I headcannoned it as putting him in Berserker mode if attached. Then I headcannoned it as getting him out of Berserker mode if pulled off his head. Then I saw another theory that if attached, it makes him act really happy, and based it off of that.**

**Killing has no permanent effect- I blame you guys for this one. Anyway, a nation can only die if their country does (though there are loopholes, because explain Prussia otherwise) or if their body is destroyed. If the second one happens, another personification will usually be born in their place, unless something weird happens.**

**Ragnarök- The end of the world in Norse Mythology. Except the world doesn't necessarily actually get destroyed and people actually live through it/somehow get ****resurrected after it. Also, it actually apparently doesn't mean "Twilight of the gods". Instead it apparently translates to something like "The Final Fate of the gods". The Twilight of the gods thing came from some German thing about it that I can't really remember.**

**So, this was a pretty short chapter. Sorry about that. I just couldn't figure out a good way to lengthen it without adding completely unnecessary things.**

**Also, why do I seem to have a habit of having Eiríkur start out the chapter comforting Lukas but end it the opposite? I don't mean to do it... It just happens...**

**Anyway, next chapter: Lukas has to explain just why he's staying in Iceland. Some people take it better than others.**


	13. 13: Explanations

**Chapter 13: Explanations**

Lukas stared at the nation across from him. "I am sorry, but exactly how is where I decide to stay in any way your concern?" he asked.

England glared at him. "Who is hosting your government and royal family for the time being?"

"I have already informed them of my whereabouts," the Norwegian said, still staring at the Englishman impassively, "and they have no problem with it. They know how to contact me if anything that requires my input comes up. And besides, if you use that card, it is only right to ask Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland what they think, because last time I checked, the United Kingdom included more than just your lands and the others were alive and well."

"So, instead of staying here, where it's perfectly safe, you're going to a place that has no standing army and could get invaded at any time?"

Lukas narrowed his eyes and said in an icy voice that sent shivers up the other nation's spine, "Like you so gracefully did? Iceland told me how well prepared those marines you sent were. If there had been any Germans there, it would have completely failed. And I would be surprised if they had plans to invade before you did. If they do now, it is only in retaliation of your actions.

"As for it being 'perfectly safe' here in Britain, where do you expect Germany to turn next? I would be willing to bet that it's not Russia, though he will turn his gaze there eventually."

"We'll be able to hold them back," England said, waving a hand to express his point.

The Nordic had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "England, the only troops that are fully equipped are the Canadian ones. That does not give me much hope."

"I have a massive navy."

"Much of which came from _my _merchant fleet. Besides, in this age, I would be surprised if Hitler tried to immediately do a sea invasion, especially with that fact you presented."

"See, someone agrees with me that's not Canada or Wales!" A deep, accented voice broke into their argument.

The two arguing nations turned to the newcomer. England scowled. "Oh, b**** h****, what do _you _want?"

The redheaded nation Lukas recognized as Scotland smirked at his little brother. "I just came to tell you France finally woke up and wishes to yell at you. I'll take over here so you can go attempt to calm him down."

"I'm in the middle of trying to convince Norway here to stay with his government here in London instead of going to some backwater country."

Lukas immediately stood up and glared at the Brit. "What did you just say?" he hissed, terrifying the other nation. If there was one thing that would make him mad, it was insulting his brother. "It sounded like an insult to my brother."

Before much more could happen, Scotland grabbed England and forced him out of the room, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it to keep it from opening again. "Sorry 'bout that. Unfortunately, Albion has never learned how to keep his mouth shut. I blame those Anglo-Saxon guys."

Lukas sighed, sitting back down. "No, I apologize. I have been a little bit off these past couple of months."

The redhead shrugged. "Can't say I blame you. Just glad you got out of there before something bad happened to you."

The Norwegian had to force himself not to say that something bad did happen to him, but figured that the Scotsman could figure that for himself.

"Anyway," Scotland continued, "I can't figure out why this is such a big deal to him. You're not the only one that is heading to stay in another country. Netherlands decided to head to Canada, and Belgium was thinking about joining him. Then again, Albion did raise a bit of a fuss then, even with the fact he's been tied up in France. I'll tell Cymru and North what you're planning to do. They'll help me get him to drop it."

Lukas nodded. "Thank you, Scotland."

He just waved him off. "No need to thank me. I'll see you later if I have the time between messing with my brothers and trying to beat my sister in whisky production."

"Ha det bra Skottland." With that, Lukas left through the other door and headed out into the city.

Walking through those streets made him depressed, seeing all of those people walking around, seemingly oblivious to the war raging in the continent. He wished more than anything that it would be the same if he walked through Oslo, for his people to have this same carefree attitude.

He sighed, ducking into an alleyway. He shouldn't think about that. It would only serve to put him in the same state when his country had surrendered to the Germans. Eiríkur would get concerned and he might have to deal with his curl being abused again.

With that in mind, he teleported himself back to Reykjavik. (He had put the spell back in his tome, figuring that he was past the 'drastic measures' stage now.)

Lukas appeared in front of his younger brother's home, startling a couple of puffins that immediately flew off, squawking. The Norwegian took a moment to wonder what it was about the Icelander's house that attracted all of these birds before deciding that he didn't actually care enough to find out.

With that fact in mind, he walked to the door. After knocking and waiting for a couple of minutes, he figured that Eiríkur was still at the meeting with his boss, which wasn't too surprising since it had apparently started a couple of hours after he had left and the Norwegian had surprisingly been able to meet with both his king and England without having to wait for extremely long periods of time.

He tried the doorknob, finding that is was actually locked. "Finally you listened, little brother," the blond muttered, casting an unlocking spell because he was too lazy to drag his key out of his pocket.

Walking in the house, Lukas saw that his assumption had been correct- there was no sign of the owner of the home. Taking off the thin coat he had only worn to appear in formal attire, he threw it on a small bench by the door before kicking off his shoes and leaving them under the bench as well.

The Norwegian tried to decide how to entertain himself before his brother came home. He had had lunch with his king that had been surprisingly good for English food, so he was not hungry, and he figured that Eiríkur would get something to eat before coming home. He had already finished the novel he had been reading, and didn't have another one yet. Deciding to see if his brother had anything, he wandered into said Icelander's room.

Eiríkur's room looked mostly the same as the last time he had been in there. It was mostly clean with a few items strewn around the room and the bed unmade. He wondered if he should make it, but decided that he wasn't a maid. Lukas wandered over to the small but overflowing bookcase when something caught his eye.

A small journal was lying open on the desk, surrounded by governmental papers. Curious, he walked over, wondering why it in his brother's handwriting. Picking it up, he was intrigued by what he read.

_I was expecting a journal or something, _Lukas thought, _but an actual original story? I did not expect Eiríkur to enjoy writing… and he actually does quite well…_

Flipping back to the start, he skimmed his brother's writing. _He seems to be taking inspiration from both real events that have happened to us as well as the myths, yet making them into his own, original plot, _the Norwegian said, smiling as he read through some of the passages.

* * *

Meanwhile, as Lukas had thought, Eiríkur was walking out of a small restaurant, having finished his lunch but still stewing over the meeting with his boss.

Was it really such a big deal that Lukas was going to stay here until further notice? At least he hadn't been worried about the Germans invading in an attempt to get to the Norwegian personification. He probably would've blown up if he had.

Instead, his boss had been worried about the other nation interfering in Icelandic affairs. While sometimes that could be a problem, Eiríkur was nowhere near worried about that. If something happened to him and he couldn't perform his duties, his brother would the one he would trust the most to take over for him, and he had told his boss that. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't actually see Lukas doing anything to intentionally harm his government. If there was a massive volcano eruption or something and he was too sick to even move, he would trust him to handle his affairs until he was better.

Eventually, his boss had agreed to shut up about the Norwegian and thankfully didn't have anything else he needed to talk about. Now the only thing that could force Lukas to leave would be if the Norwegian government in exile forced him to stay in England, which he honestly doubted.

Finally getting back to his home, the Icelander grabbed the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Lukas' coat and shoes were on the bench signaling that he was back, but Eiríkur didn't call out for him. Instead, he just walked to his room, yawning and planning to take a quick nap before dinner. All thoughts of that flew out of his head upon seeing his older brother standing by his desk, reading a familiar journal.

"LUKAS!" he screamed, rushing forward to snatch his writings from the Norwegian's hands. "What the heck are you doing?!"

Lukas offered no resistance, surprised at the outburst. "Eiríkur, I did not hear you come in."

"Obviously," he scoffed, clutching his book to his chest, afraid that Lukas would try to take it back. "Why are you looking into my things?"

"I came in here to see if you had a book that I wished to read. Besides, you are the one that left it open on your desk. You would have done the same thing to me."

"That doesn't mean you should go looking through my crappy writing!"

"Eiríkur, they aren't crappy at all," Lukas said, raising and eyebrow. "In fact, it was actually very engaging, so much that I was completely engrossed in the story and did not hear you come in."

"You're just saying that," Eiríkur said, staring at the ground, face red from embarrassment.

"Would I lie to you about this?"

"You would have when I was younger," he muttered, the sound barely reaching the elder's ears.

"You are older now, both physically and mentally. You can take constructive criticism now."

Eiríkur looked at his brother in disbelief. "Constructive criticism? That's what you're calling what you say now?"

Lukas rolled his eyes again. "Either way, your writing is not anywhere near the 'crap' you seem to consider it. In fact, it is very pleasant to read."

The Icelander blushed, embarrassed. Lukas wasn't one to give complements easily, so that must actually be what he thought. Though it was nowhere near the level of his brother's, it made him feel a little bit better about his writing.

"Can I read some more?"

Eiríkur considered the question. He could actually expect some decent help from his brother, so maybe it wouldn't be too bad. "Fine," he said, thrusting the book at Lukas, who took it from him and walked out of the room after smiling and ruffling his hair.

He sighed, hoping Lukas wouldn't be too harsh on him. No matter what he said, it wasn't very good.

* * *

A couple hours later, Eiríkur was wondering if he should go make dinner himself or force Lukas to make it for him when said Norwegian came in. "I finished what you have already written," he announced, placing the book back on the desk.

"And?" the Icelander asked, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice.

Lukas smiled. "It was very good. I loved how you seemed to base it off of the myths and some actual events that we have lived through yet at the same time making it your own, original story. There were some errors, but I did not see any major ones that you have not already corrected. The only real problem is the fact that you have not written the climax or ending yet."

Eiríkur glanced down at his hands, embarrassed at the praise. "Thanks. I haven't figured out how to end it yet. I was trying to earlier, but couldn't think of anything."

"Do not worry, you will," the Norwegian assured his brother, reaching out and ruffling his hair again, causing the Icelander to protest.

Eiríkur sighed, leaning back against his headboard. "By the way, what happened in England? I assume that you convinced them to let you stay here, but did anything else happen?"

Lukas shrugged, sitting next to his brother. "I actually did not have to do much convincing. They were fine with me staying here, especially since they know I can quickly teleport to London if anything comes up. The only one who actually objected was England, but Scotland forced him out before he could say anything to really annoy me. So do not worry, I will indeed be freeloading off of you for the foreseeable future."

The younger nation rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Go make dinner, freeloader." Lukas smirked but obliged, leaving the Icelander alone.

After a moment, Eiríkur got up and grabbed his book from the desk before relaxing back in his bed. Maybe reading through what he had already written would give him an idea on what to do for the end of his story.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Albion- old name for England**

**Cymru (Welsh)- Wales**

**Ha det bra Skottland (Norwegian)- Goodbye Scotland**

**Notes:**

**UK is more than just England- Believe it or not, it is. Ward of warning: do not call a Scottish or Welsh person English. They won't like it, especially the Scotsman. British may get a slightly better reaction depending on the person. I don't know how a Northern Irish citizen would take it.**

**Only fully equipped battalions were Canadian- While they did manage to get many of their troops out of France before it fell, the British army had to leave most of their equipment behind. The Canadians, being from an entirely different continent, didn't have that problem unless they had been in France at the time.**

**Not planning a sea invasion- Actually, Hitler kind of was. However, he wanted to achieve air superiority first, leading to the Battle of Britain and The Blitz. Obviously, that didn't happen, and I believe the actual invasion of the UK was put off until he conquered Russia, which also obviously did not happen.**

**Netherlands headed to Canada- I mentioned this last chapter, but I'll restate it just in case you missed it. Long before I came up with the idea for this fic, I had the headcanon of Canada and Netherlands hanging out together in Ottawa and being bros during the war. I threw in the idea that Belgium might head over there to after realizing that she was kind of the only female nation in London and she may want to keep her brother company when Canada is on the front lines,**

**Scotland's names for his brothers- I can see him calling his siblings by the names they went by centuries ago. You see, he does care about them all deep down. I just don't have a good name for North. Also, he showed up because he's Scotland and I felt like writing him. No accent though. I would probably end up throwing my laptop at the wall and I don't have the money for a replacement.**

**The dysfunctional family that is the British Isles- From oldest to youngest: Scotland, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Wales, and England. No real reason why you need to know this unless you were wondering who Scotland was referring to when he mentioned his brothers and sister (Ireland).**

**People oblivious to the war- Keep in mind that this chapter takes place before the Blitz. Part of this comes from a book I read about the Miracle of Dunkirk, where it mentioned that a town just across the English Channel had no idea that things were so bad not even 20 miles away, and also the fact that while I know that America has troops in the Middle East at the moment, it doesn't really affect me. If I knew someone over there it would, but I don't. **

**Lots of notes this time…**

**You know, I have no idea where most of this chapter came from. I had absolutely no intention of ever even implying that Eiríkur liked to write or even thought that he did. Just goes to show you that sometimes things happen that I don't plan. Don't worry, though. We've still mostly been following my outline, things like this aside.**

**I also feel I've vilified England a bit here. While he has never been and will never be my favorite character, I don't actually mean to.**

**Anyway, ****Sjáumst seinna! ****(Aka most likely butchered Icelandic for see you later!)**


	14. 14: Trees

**I'm really sorry for the late update. Long story short I had a couple projects to do for school and I was out of town Saturday, which didn't help. Again, sorry.**

**Chapter 14: Trees**

December 23, 1940

The first time Eiríkur heard boxes moving around in his attic he assumed it was Mr. Puffin.

The second time he assumed it was a squirrel or something and Lukas would deal with it.

When it didn't stop and continued up again, the Icelander finally got up, sleepily grabbing the first clothes he came across and dressing before irritably heading up the stairs to yell at his brother or creature that somehow got past the wards.

Throwing open the door, he snapped at the blond Norwegian, "Would it kill you to wait until a decent hour to raid my attic?"

Lukas just looked impassively at him. "It is a decent hour. If you had bothered to look at a clock, you would be able to see that it is almost noon."

"That still doesn't mean I want to get woken up!"

At that, Lukas didn't even bother to hide his rolling eyes. Changing the subject, he said, "You have no Christmas decorations."

Eiríkur rolled his eyes. "What did you expect? I haven't ever spent that holiday here. It's always been in Scandinavia or Finland."

"That still does not excuse it, lillebror," he said, closing the box and standing up, leaving the attic while the Icelander followed.

"If you're so annoyed at that, just go to your place and bring back some decorations," said Icelander muttered.

"I am planning to."

At that, Eiríkur stopped dead. "What? Are you insane? You can't go! You'll get captured!"

He saw Lukas sigh, probably having figured he would react this way. It was times like this that Eiríkur really hated having been raised by him. "I am not going anywhere near Oslo. I was planning to go to my home in Tromsø and retrieving some of my decorations from my house there while finding a real tree, which I cannot get here."

"That's not my fault," Eiríkur muttered, a little annoyed that his brother had to bring up the lack of forestry in his lands, something he had always been jealous of his brother for.

"If it will make you feel better, you can come with me," Lukas said, leaving the attic.

"Yeah, like that will happen."

* * *

One hour later

"I hate you," Eiríkur said. Lukas just rolled his eyes.

"I'll be sure to remember that the next time I make butter cake," the Norwegian said dryly. "By the way, why exactly do you have one of Mikkel's old axes in your attic?"

The younger nation shrugged. "How should I know? I haven't gone through it in… Actually, I don't think I have ever gone through it."

Lukas thought about chiding his brother for that, but chose against it. It wasn't as if he cleaned out _his _attic and cellar on a regular basis.

Instead, the personification opted for silence as they walked through the trees. It was relaxing, walking through the quiet forest where even the elk and other winter creatures seemed to be sleeping. It almost made him forget about everything that had happened this past year.

Almost.

Lukas fought the urge to sigh. Eiríkur would most likely notice, and he would be concerned. His brother was probably worried enough about how he would take his first visit to his lands in six months, and he didn't want to let on how much it hurt.

It wasn't bad on the surface- just being in his homeland made him feel stronger than he had these past months, and almost gave him some peace, despite the occupation. What made him hurt was the fact that he knew it was only temporary, that as soon as this errand was finished he would head back to Iceland, abandoning his people once again. He was glad that Eiríkur hadn't asked why they weren't heading into the city. He didn't want to admit how scared he was to face his people, how much of a _coward _he was being.

"What about this one?"

Lukas' gaze immediately went to his brother, his feelings hidden under an emotionless façade. Though he looked to the tree Eiríkur pointed to, he saw the Icelander look at him with an almost unnoticeable frown on his face out of the corner of his eye. To hopefully deflect any suspicion, he said, "Well, it looks like it will fit into your living room, at least."

Thankfully, Eiríkur looked away, nodding and saying nothing about what he may have guessed about his brother's feelings, which Lukas was glad for. He wasn't sure that he could find a way to explain how he felt. Hoping to deflect any conversation, he went forward and began to chop down the tree.

* * *

"I can't believe that this fit…" Eiríkur said, looking at the tree.

"Do you mean in the door or in the living room?" Lukas remarked from where he was sitting on the couch.

The Icelander thought about that for a moment. "Both," he admitted. That had been fun, getting the tree into the house and making it stand up straight. It was worth it though, he decided as he gazed at it.

Lukas abruptly stood up. "I am going to bed. God natt."

Eiríkur watched him go, frowning. He wasn't an idiot. He could plainly see that Lukas wasn't completely unaffected by temporally visiting his lands. That was the reason he had decided to come with him in the first place- he didn't want Lukas to do something drastic. He didn't feel guilty about making him stay in Iceland with him, but he wished that there was something that he could do to help him.

He sighed and got up, deciding to follow his brother's example and get some sleep. He was halfway across the room when something caught his eye. He knelt next to the box, taking out the flag sticking out. He looked at the flag, then back at the tree. _Hmm… It'll take some time to do this, but I think it will be worth it…_

* * *

Lukas was rudely awakened early in the morning. (Or, at least he guessed he was early. He didn't have a clock in his room and looking outside wouldn't tell him anything.) He glared at his brother. "What do you want Eiríkur?" he muttered, still half asleep.

Eiríkur held out a cup of coffee. "Drink this and come look in the living room." Once he had taken the cup, he left the room. Lukas watched him go, curious as to what had him so nervous. Today was Christmas Eve, so it couldn't be Timo visiting, and he probably wouldn't be as nervous as this if that was the case.

A few minutes later, he left his room, the empty cup in hand, to find out what his brother wanted. When he got to the living room, he stopped dead, staring at the tree.

Instead of just candles decorating the tree, while he had slept Eiríkur had apparently been busy making small Norwegian and Icelandic flags that he placed with the candles. He looked at his brother, looking at him nervously on the couch, and placed his cup on the table before walking to his brother and wrapping his arms around him. "Takk, Eiríkur," he whispered, touched that he had spent all night doing this.

"It's not that big of a deal," Eiríkur said, a little embarrassed.

Lukas knew what he meant. If it had been any other year, he would have been grateful, but he would not have acted like this. But this wasn't any other year, and he was more touched than he would usually be.

After a minute, he let his brother go and said, smiling, "I am going to make some Julekake. Do you want to help me?"

Eiríkur nodded eagerly, causing Lukas to smile even more. His brother always loved helping him make treats for the holidays, and he doubted that would ever change.

* * *

Later that night, after eating dinner, they decided to stay up and see if Timo was helping Santa this year. Neither had seen the Finn for awhile, and it would be nice to talk with him for a bit.

The only problem was the fact that Eiríkur couldn't keep his eyes open.

After the third time the Icelander jolted awake, Lukas finally said, "Just go to sleep, little brother. I will wake you if I believe that he is coming."

"I can survive staying awake for a few days," he protested, stifling a yawn.

"That doesn't mean you should. Just go to sleep."

"I will if you sing something."

Lukas looked at him, surprised. Eiríkur hadn't asked him to sing since before that treaty was signed. He hadn't expected him to now.

He wasn't about to refuse his request, though. Clearing his throat, he started singing an old Icelandic lullaby, voice at first rough from disuse but becoming clearer with each line that passed.

As he sung, Eiríkur curled up next to him on the couch, laying his head in his lap. Continuing to sing, even as his brother fell asleep, he ran his hand through the silver hair.

After he finished the song, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to get some rest himself. He would most likely hear Timo if he did decide to come.

As the Norwegian had thought, he jolted awake upon hearing something land on the roof. He yawned and started poking his brother, who muttered something incomprehensible and swatted at his finger.

Before he could fully wake him up, someone dropped down the chimney and stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot off of his costume. "You are welcome for not relighting the fire," Lukas said, face softening upon seeing his old friend.

The Finn whirled around to face him. "Ah! Lukas! It's been so long!" Timo said, smiling so wide it looked like his mouth was about to fall off of his face.

"It has been awhile," the Norwegian said, still poking his brother in an attempt to wake him up.

Finally, the poking seemed to have an effect, because Eiríkur finally said something understandable, "Stöðva það..." he muttered, glaring at his brother with sleepy eyes.

"Eiríkur!" Timo exclaimed, smiling even wider if it was possible. "It's really good to finally see you again!"

Said Icelander blinked the sleep from his eyes. "Oh, Hei Timo!" he said, smiling a little.

"I can't stay too long, but how have you guys been? I haven't seen you guys for so long!" the Finn said.

Lukas surprised himself by saying, "I have actually been very well, considering." Judging by the discreet glance his brother gave him, he wasn't the only one.

"That's great! What about you, Icy?"

"Can you guys stop calling me that?" "Icy" muttered. "Anyway, I've been good. Well, if you ignore the fact that he's been bugging me on a daily basis now."

"I am the one bugging _you?"_ Lukas asked, raising an eyebrow.

Timo smiled. "I'm so happy you're both alright! By the way, here are your gifts!" he said as he produced two packages out of nowhere that he handed to the brothers.

Unwrapping his, Lukas found that Timo had given him a nice, new coffee mug that would keep drinks warm, something he had a problem with. "Thank you, Timo," he said, smiling a tiny bit, causing the other nation to beam.

Eiríkur unwrapped a small book, eyes widening as he realized that it was an original copy of the Prose Edda written in Old Icelandic. He stared at the Christmas lover, not having any words to describe how thankful he was for this gift, especially since his had been lost centuries ago.

Lukas smiled at his brother. "I believe that he wants to say 'Thank you'," he said to the Finn.

"Both of you are welcome! I wish I could stay longer, but I have to find the time to deliver that stupid Russian's gag gift!"

"Wait," the Norwegian said, "I made some Julekake earlier. There's still a piece left in the dinning room for you."

Timo grinned, racing to grab the cake. "Thank you so much! I hope I'll see you guys soon! Hyvää joulua!" With that, he somehow got back up the fireplace and left.

After a moment of making sure that the other nation wouldn't immediately come back, Lukas got up and re-lit the fire, Eiríkur watching him. "Out of curiosity," the Icelander asked, "Did you mean what you said before, about being well?"

Lukas nodded, turning to face his brother. "Yes. I did."

"Are you sure?" Eiríkur asked, seemingly not convinced.

"Yes. I already told you that I will not be completely fine until this blasted war is over, but discounting that..." the Norwegian trailed off, not sure how to say what he meant.

Eiríkur seemed to get it though, if the hug he suddenly gave him was any indication. "I'm glad," he said, burying his face in his brother's chest. "I don't want you to be mad at me for making you come here."

"When have I ever been truly mad at you?" Lukas asked softly. "Annoyed, yes, but I do not believe that I have ever actually been truly angry at you. I hope I never get to that point."

"Can you please sing some more?"

Lukas just smiled and obliged, locking the memory of this night in a secure place of his mind to remember for centuries.

* * *

**Translations:**

**God Natt (Norwegian)- Good night**

**Stöðva það (Icelandic)- Stop it**

**Hei- Hi in Norwegian and apparently Icelandic**

**Hyvää joulua (Finnish)- Merry Christmas (Timo's favorite phrase)**

**Other Notes:**

**Squirrel or something- Okay, I don't think that there are any squirrels in Iceland. I couldn't think of anything other than puffins to put and didn't really want to go look it up.**

**Tromsø- A city in Northern Norway. By the way, apparently my Norwegian keyboard came with a spell check, and it's saying that that's wrong... But that's what it says on the map...**

**Lack of forestry- Apparently, while there are some trees, Iceland is not really forested. Naturally, he would be a bit jealous that Norway is full of them, though he isn't anywhere near jealous enough to actually do anything about it. He's fine with his land the way it is. Unless there's a massive eruption, in which case he curses whoever thought volcanoes were a good idea.**

**Putting flags on your tree- A Scandinavian tradition. Apparently it actually started during this time due to the Nazis banning their flags from being used and at least the Danish doing this in retaliation, so I thought it was appropriate. The only question is why this has not caught on in America. You'd think that we'd be all over that, but nope.**

**Julekake- A kind of Norwegian fruitcake. The recipie I saw actually didn't make me want to throw up like most do, so I ****guess it would be good. By the way, I am pretty sure that it translates to "Christmas Cake", though don't quote me on this. I have no idea what the word for cake is.**

**Prose Edda- The largest collection of the Norse myths, written in the 1200s by an Icelander whose name I have no hope of spelling from memory and am too lazy to look up at the moment.**

**What is it with me and writing angsty!Lukas? Eh, whatever.**

**Anyway, another Nordic actually appeared! It only took 14 chapters! :P**

**Again, sorry for the wait, but I have everything done now, so hopefully the next chapter won't be as long.**

**Next Chapter: A certain annoying nation shows up, Eiríkur is confused, and Lukas is amused.**


	15. 15: Americans

**Chapter 15: Americans**

July 1, 1941

Lukas was mentally counting the number of books in the house that he had not read yet (which was a depressingly small number; he really needed to figure out something else to do with his time) when his brother came in, so he did not immediately notice how annoyed he was. The throwing of his coat and cursing made it hard to miss, however.

He eyed the Icelander warily. "What happened?"

Eiríkur just muttered something under his breath and attempted to stalk past him, only stopping when the Norwegian grabbed him. "Eiríkur. Tell me what is wrong."

"Freaking Americans," came the answer.

Lukas cocked his head, trying to figure out what he meant. After a moment, he remembered the ongoing negotiations between the Icelanders, Americans, and British. "So I suppose they reached an agreement with your representatives," he stated.

"I don't want Americans here! I just want everyone to go home!"

"You are not the only one," Lukas said dryly.

Eiríkur glanced at him. "I didn't mean you. You're only really annoying when you steal my coffee and try to make me call you 'big brother'. Plus you cook."

"So nice to know that you appreciate me being bored enough to make dinner every night."

Ignoring his brother, the Icelander continued, "Seriously! Americans can be worse than the _Danish! _How is that even possible?"

"Not that I have any real right to ask this, but have you ever even met an American?" Eiríkur's mouth opened. "America himself does not count." His mouth closed again and he scowled.

"I still don't want them over here," he muttered.

Lukas sighed. "There are a lot of things that none of us want lillebror," he said softly. Changing the subject, he asked, "Do you know when they shall be here and if America himself will be among them?"

Eiríkur shrugged. "A few days because they apparently just assumed that the negotiations would go like they wanted and shipped some soldiers to somewhere in Canada. And who knows if he'll bother to even show up. I'm going to take a nap."

The Norwegian watched his brother leave the room. He sighed. Eiríkur had a history of holding grudges. Honestly, he was still amazed that the Icelander had forgiven him so easily for not keeping in contact with him while his land was under Swedish rule. Then again, considering how he still seemed to be angry at Berwald, even going as far as to call him by his nation name and avoiding any discussion about him, he may not have the ability to hold a grudge against him. Now that he thought about it, he really needed to figure out some way to fix that.

Either way, he hoped for the Americans' sake his brother would cool down by the time they arrived. They did not deserve to have to deal with a potentially vengeful personification.

* * *

Thankfully, the majority of Eiríkur's annoyance had abated by the time the Americans had arrived six days later. Unfortunately that still didn't mean that he wanted to admit they were there.

Lukas stared at his brother. "Eiríkur, you are being ridiculous. Get up and at least see if America came."

"Nei. I am perfectly fine with taking a nap," said Icelander muttered, clutching his blanket as if he were afraid it would be forcibly taken away."

"I raised you better than this. Stop acting like a child and get up."

"Calling me a kid won't work."

Lukas bit back a swear. _Why does he have to be so stubborn? I will fully admit I am stubborn, but it cannot all be my fault. _Out loud, he said, "You cannot act like this is not happening."

"Still doesn't mean that I have to go and be nice."

"Fine," Lukas snapped. "I will go and actually be the nice one. If America actually decided to come, you had better get up and be a decent host because I will _not _teleport him back because you are acting like a whiny child."

On that note, he stalked out of the room, deciding to just walk to Reykjavík to hopefully diffuse some of his annoyance at his brother.

It seemed to work. By the time he reached the government building that America was most likely to be at if he had come, he was mostly back to normal.

A few casual questions revealed that an Alfred F. Jones had come with the American soldiers. Ignoring the comments by the female secretaries about how attractive he was , he made his way to the meeting room, hoping that England or Scotland had mentioned to him that he was staying here for the foreseeable future.

Opening the door, he found the personification of The United States of America was indeed sitting in the room. America seemed to be staring in space, apparently not having heard the door open.

Lukas cleared his throat loudly. Upon seeing America jump and whirl around to face him, he closed the door and said, "Hello, America."

"Oh, hi Norway! I was expecting to see Iceland," the young nation greeted, smiling.

Surprised at the fact that not only did America recognize him, he greeted him so casually despite the fact that they didn't even know each other, he said, "Iceland had some things to sort out at his home. I offered to come in his place."

America nodded as the Norwegian sat down in a chair across from him. "Well, anyway, hyggelig å hilse på deg!"

Lukas stared at him, not even bothering to hide his shock. "Hva?" he spoke, not sure if he had heard the American correctly.

"Hyggelig å hilse på deg!"

"Do you actually speak my language," Lukas asked, still speaking Norwegian, "or did you just learn that phrase?"

"I actually speak Norwegian," America said, smiling. "A lot of your people have moved to my home in the past century. I seem to just have a gift for languages, and the more immigrants that come from a country, the easier it is for me to learn it."

Lukas stared at him, reevaluating his view on the young country, realizing that he wasn't quite as much of an idiot as he seemed at first. "Do you know Icelandic?" he asked.

He gave a rueful smile. "I haven't really gotten a good grip on it. I know some basic phrases, but Icelandic lessons are hard to come by. I tried to find someone to teach me when negotiations started, but wasn't able to."

Lukas abruptly stood. "Do you have anywhere to stay yet?"

"Nope. Hadn't planned that far ahead."

"Come. I know someone who can help with your Icelandic."

* * *

Eiríkur was lying on his couch when they walked in. He sat up, immediately noticing the blond nation next to his brother. "Oh… Hi America."

"Hallo Island!"

Eiríkur stared at him. "Hvað," he stated. Lukas hid an amused smirk. He had expected that reaction.

"Yep, I know Norwegian!" America smiled. "Are you two related? You guys had the exact same reaction."

Lukas cut in at this point. "Yes, we are. He is my little brother."

"Cool! Anyway, can I crash here?"

The Icelander didn't answer right away, apparently still shocked that America knew another language that wasn't English. After a moment, he finally said, "Uh… sure. There are a couple guest rooms down the hall."

"Thanks dude!"

They watched him head down the hallway before disappearing into one of the unused rooms. "How in the world does he speak your language?" Eiríkur asked, turning to his brother.

Lukas shrugged. "A lot of my people moved to his country, and he apparently has a gift with languages. He does not know much more than very basic Icelandic, although he did apparently tried to find a teacher before coming here."

"Really?"

"Ask him."

A moment later, the subject of their conversation came back. "Dude, I love your beds! They are so soft!"

Lukas privately thought that that had more to do with the fact that he had been stuck on a ship for several days, but didn't say anything.

America turned to Eiríkur. "Hey, can you teach me some Icelandic? I feel a bit obliged to learn it since I'm going to be spending some time here before one of my ships leave."

"Sure, America."

"Dude, just call me Alfred!" the American said, smiling.

The two brothers stared at him. While they already knew his human name, neither of them had expected the American to ask them to call him by that name so suddenly. Maybe it was because he was so much younger than them, because neither of them would be so quick to let others call them by anything other than their country names.

Lukas recovered first. "In that case, you may call me Lukas Bondevik."

"Eiríkur Steilsson," the Icelander piped up.

America smiled. "Like I said earlier, it's nice to meet you two! I'm so glad we're friends now!"

The Nordics looked at each other again, realizing that they would probably do this a lot the next few days.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Nei- Icelandic and Norwegian for no. (Pronounced differently, though. Icelandic seems to be spoken like "nay" while Norwegian is closer to "nigh".)**

**Hyggelig å hilse på deg (Norwegian)- Nice to meet you**

**Hva (Norwegian)- What**

**Hvað (****Icelandic)- What**

**Notes:**

**July 1, 1941- Negotiations for the occupation of Iceland to be transferred to the USA concluded. A few days beforehand, some soldiers had been shipped to Newfoundland in preparation. They arrived in ****Reykjavík**** on July 7. (By the way, Newfoundland was apparently not part of Canada until after WWII. I am pretty sure that I'm one of the only non-Canadians that know this.)**

**Females thinking America is attractive- A bit of a reference to what is called the "Ástandið" (the situation/the condition), where a bunch of Icelandic women married/were involved with the soldiers. This won't be the only time this comes up and Eiríkur definitely won't be very happy when he realizes this is going on.**

**Many Norwegians moved to America- Apparently there's more Americans claiming Norwegian decent than there are people actually living in Norway. Yeah. **

**Multilingual America- Yeah, I like the idea. However, instead of having him automatically know a language, he actually has to go and learn it, though depending on the amount of immigrants that came that spoke that language, it could come extremely easily to him. He also doesn't forget a language once he learn****s it.**

**I'm really sorry for making you wait for a week for a really crappy chapter. Life has basically gotten in the way and I haven't had much time to write. I am really sorry.**


	16. 16: En Dag

**Chapter 16: En Dag**

Eiríkur was the first out of bed as usual. He took a look at the clock that he had finally gotten, seeing with sleepy eyes that it was past nine. Deciding that he might as well get up now, he forced himself to get up and threw on the shirt he wore yesterday as he left his bedroom.

He sleepily made his way to the kitchen, where he made some coffee, smiling sleepily when he got a whiff of the strong smell. Pouring himself a cup, he drowned a good portion of it, finally waking up. Finishing his drink, he poured himself some more before being a nice brother and pouring some for Lukas when he woke up.

Taking both cups into his living room, he sat down on the couch and stared at the opposite wall, waiting for his brother to finally get up.

He didn't have to wait very long. Only a few minutes later, he heard a door slam open and heavy footsteps in the hall. Lukas emerged, not even seeming to notice where he was going. As usual, he didn't have a shirt on and hadn't combed his hair and put his hairclip on.

Used to the scene, Eiríkur said, "Deilig kaffe er her," gesturing to the cup sitting on the coffee table and involuntarily wrapping his hands tighter around his mug.

Lukas shuffled over to the cup, grabbing it and chugging down at least half of it before heading back into the kitchen to get some more. A minute later, he came back and sat down next to the Icelander. "God morgen, lillebror," he said.

"Can you stop calling me that?" said little brother muttered.

"You are my younger brother, so no."

Eiríkur sighed in aggravation.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, occasionally getting up and refilling their cups. Finally, Eiríkur went into his kitchen and found that there was no more coffee and stomped back into the room. "You took the last of the coffee," he accused.

Lukas didn't even blink. "Yes, I did take the last bit of the elixir of life."

"You got the last of it yesterday!"

"And your point is?"

Eiríkur just muttered something unflattering about his brother under his breath before stalking off to his room to get dressed.

He grabbed his usual outfit and ran into his bathroom. After getting ready for the day, he went back to his living room, finding Lukas already there, fully dressed. He scowled. No matter how fast he tried to get ready, his brother always beat him. It made no sense whatsoever.

The Icelander sat next to his brother and started messing around with his radio while Lukas looked on. "Why are you even bothering?" the Norwegian asked.

"Maybe they'll be something on this time."

Well, there was something on, but not exactly what they were looking for. Eiríkur immediately shut off his radio, eyes wide and pretty ashamed that something like that came from his country.

Lukas' expression mirrored his brother's. "I… was not expecting that…" the usually stoic nation said. All his brother could do was nod.

Awkward silence ensued.

After a few minutes, Lukas finally said, "Can you please explain to me why there are puffins dotting your backyard?"

"Huh? Oh," Eiríkur said, taking a moment to realize that he had said anything. "I honestly have no idea why they keep showing up. It's been happening for centuries. How have you not noticed before?"

"I have noticed; I have just never brought it up," he said, slightly disappointed that even the owner of the house didn't know. "I will say that there are nowhere near as many puffins in your backyard as the penguins we saw in Antarctica."

Eiríkur rolled his eyes. "I still don't believe you saw a giant colony with thousands of them."

"I gave you a picture. What more do you need?"

"You can fake pictures."

"You will believe me one day, lillebror."

"Yeah, and that will be the day I promise to call you 'big brother' for an entire week."

(He was actually forced to fulfill that promise about fifty years later when Lukas found footage, but that is a completely different story.)

* * *

Later, after a light lunch, Lukas turned to his brother and asked, "Do you have anything to do today?"

After thinking about it for a minute, Eiríkur replied, "Nope. Why?"

"I want to go outside and take a walk with my favorite brother."

"I'm your _only _brother," the Icelander muttered. "And what if I don't want to take a walk?"

"Do you really want to stare at a wall all day?"

And that was how Eiríkur found himself following his brother as they wandered aimlessly around his lands. "Do you even know where you want to go?" he asked.

"No. I just wanted to take a walk. I had no destination in mind. If we get lost, I will just teleport us back to your home."

"You think I'm going to get lost in my own lands?" Eiríkur asked, offended that his brother would even imply that.

"No, I do not believe that you will. However, I like to be prepared for anything odd happening," Lukas said, turning his head to glance at his brother.

Still offended, he stalked ahead of his brother, intending to prove him wrong and not get them lost.

They walked in silence for a while, just enjoying the scenery. Eventually, they came across a small family of puffins, which was fine until they noticed that the male had a very familiar pink bow tied around its neck.

To say that Eiríkur was in shock upon finding that his Mafioso-sounding pet had a mate and kids would be an understatement.

Lukas eventually had to drag his brother off, muttering about how this was one of those odd things he had mentioned before.

* * *

After the Icelander recovered from his shock, they started up their usual argument about dinner; or more specifically, who would cook it.

"You're the better cook," Eiríkur pointed out.

"That does not mean that I have to be the one to cook," Lukas said, crossing his arms and staring at his brother. "Honestly, I am actually a guest here. You should be the one serving me. It is only polite, after all."

"You've been here for two years. I think you're past the 'guest' phase and into 'freeloader' territory."

"I am not a freeloader. If anything, this is payback for the number of times that you have just taken my things without asking. Besides, you were the one that decided to make me stay here."

"That's because you were being an idiot."

"My point still stands."

"Go make dinner or I'm getting some Hákarl and forcing you to eat it."

"And pigs can fly. I doubt that even you can get some on such short notice."

"Try me."

They stared at each other, neither one wishing to back down. Every single time this happened, the one that finally cracked due to hunger was the loser and had to go make dinner.

Today, it turned out to be Eiríkur. He aimed a certain offensive gesture at his brother's triumphant expression before heading into his kitchen.

* * *

Later, after dinner, they were once again in the living room, Eiríkur writing his book with Lukas reading over his shoulder. "Can you stop it and let me write in peace?"

"If you were really all that bothered about it, you would get up and move somewhere else," the Scandinavian pointed out.

"I don't want to move. You get up."

"I do not wish to either."

At that, Eiríkur scowled and slammed his book shut, deciding that he might as well stop since he hadn't been having any inspiration anyway. He got up and went to his room, Lukas staring impassively after him.

A minute later he came back and dumped their copy of the myths into his brother's lap. "Stop being annoying and read," Eiríkur demanded.

"I am the annoying one?" Lukas asked, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, I thought that we had finished this last month."

"Just read, _pirrandi._"

The Norwegian smirked but obliged, skipping randomly to the myth about Iðunn's apples and starting to read.

As usual, after he had finished, Eiríkur was half asleep. Poking his brother to wake him up, Lukas said, "Go get ready for bed." The Icelander grumbled but obliged as Lukas smiled, watching him.

While he would rather this scene take place in his lands and for them not to have the ever-present burdens of being nations on them, he treasured these calm days.

* * *

**Translations:**

**En dag (Norwegian)- a day**

**Delig kaffe er her (Norwegian) – Delicious coffee is here**

**Pirrandi (Icelandic) – annoying**

**Other notes:**

**Penguin colonies in Antarctica- I found out yesterday that it was a Norwegian expedition that first got to the South Pole and a hilarious image of Lukas freezing his butt off there ensued. That is the only reason why this was added.**

**Hákarl ****– Fermented poisonous shark meet that had been buried for twelve weeks. Apparently one of the most disgusting dishes on the face of the Earth, and apparently is an acquired taste.**

**So, this was more of a slice-of-life chapter than anything else. I honestly just felt like writing something fairly meaningless rather than the pretty depressing chapter I had originally started.**

**This chapter also doesn't really have a set time frame. It takes place in 1942, but other than that, no real set time. **


	17. 17: Invitation

**Chapter 17: Invitation**

December 23, 1942

"Why," Eiríkur asked, straining to drag the large tree, "do you always have to pick all of these heavy trees?"

Lukas shot him a glare, also straining to drag the tree. "Thank you for informing me that trees are heavy. I never would have guessed," the Norwegian said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Sarcasm is not appreciated."

"I would never dream that it would be."

"Just shut up," the Icelander snapped, glaring at his older brother, who returned the glare.

They stayed like that for a few moments, not making any progress in moving the trees, only breaking their concentration when they heard someone yell, "Yo, Nordic dudes!"

The two brothers immediately whirled around and lost their grip on the tree. "Alfred?" Eiríkur asked in disbelief.

"The one and only!" the American nation smiled, jogging over to them and wrapping them in an extremely painful hug that Lukas would have killed him for had he been able to move. Thankfully, he let go before permanent damage could be done. (Well, as permanent as it can get for nations at least.) While they were struggling to replenish their air supplies, Alfred, still smiling, said, "It's great to see you two! Sorry I haven't visited, but things have been crazy back in DC lately and I've been helping out on the front. How have you guys been? Anything interesting happen?"

Eiríkur, feeling like he had enough oxygen to respond, said, "We've been fine. Nothing much has happened."

"We did find some questionable things on Icelandic radio stations, however," Lukas said.

"We promised to never speak of that again."

"You promised. I did nothing."

"Well, there is some weird crap on the radio," Alfred said before the Icelander could respond. "One time these guys made everyone think that aliens were invading and everyone fled their homes. Man, me and Canada had so much fun listening to that!"

_So Americans are really gullible after all,_ Lukas thought. _Ironically, America himself did not fall into that category if that story is true. The world is very odd sometimes. Wait, who am I kidding? The world is always a bit off._

While he was thinking this, Eiríkur said, "Right… Any reason you came to visit?"

"I have tons of reasons, dude! Can I come in and tell you? It's freezing my butt off!"

"It is not that cold," Lukas said. "In fact, this is pretty nice weather for this time of year."

Alfred just stared at him in disbelief. "Whatever you say dude," he muttered, obviously not believing him. "Hey, is that a Christmas tree? I'll bring it in for you!"

"You don't have-" Eiríkur started to say.

"It's no biggie!" With that, the American grabbed the tree and started to drag it into the house with minimal effort. "It's not even that heavy!"

You could practically hear the two Nordics think "What the heck" as they watched him easily bring the tree into the house.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the tree was set up in the living room and the two brothers had agreed not to ask how the American was so strong.

"Why did you decide to come here, especially so close to Christmas?" Lukas asked once the tree was standing up straight.

"I came to invite you guys to my awesome party!" Alfred said. "Most everyone on our side has agreed to come! Well, except for North 'cause he's still a bit irritated at his twin, but I'm pretty sure that Uncle Scottie is going to drag him with them anyway. And if you guys don't come then I'm not going to make it 'cause I can't get to the party quick enough by boat."

They stared at him. "You're manipulating us," Eiríkur deadpanned.

"Yep!"

The two brothers stared at each other, having a silent conversation that went something like this:

_I can't believe he managed to come up with that._

_He may be a bit smarter than the world gives him credit for._

_It's still low._

_Says the one who threatens everyone with Hákarl to get what he wants._

_Hypocrite. You threaten the others with Troll all the time._

_Troll does not make people to go blind and walk into volcanoes._

_Shut up. You're going to make me go with you, aren't you._

_It will be a good chance for you to meet other nations and get some friends._

_I have friends._

_I meant outside the Nordics. And Alfred declaring himself to be your friend five seconds after meeting you does not count._

_Just shut up!_

Figuring that he had won, Lukas turned to Alfred and said, "We will come with you. How long will it be?"

"Great! The party's tomorrow evening, in New York City. It would be Christmas Day, but the states want to have a family party that day, so Christmas Eve. Everyone can leave or do whatever they want after the party."

"Your states are personified?!" both brothers yelled at the same time.

Alfred blinked and frowned. "Why is everyone so surprised when they find out? It's not a secret… Sure they stay in the country most of the time, but that doesn't explain it…"

They didn't answer, and after a moment the American snapped out of it and asked, "Hey, do you guys want to leave today or tomorrow morning? 'Cause either is fine with me."

Snapping out of it, Eiríkur said, "Um… tonight is fine… right?" directing that last question to his brother, who nodded in agreement.

"Just so you know, we will most likely leave after the party," Lukas said.

"That's fine! Uncle Scottie's going to warp him and at least Iggy back to the UK for a couple meetings, so you guys won't be the only ones. When do you guys want to leave?"

"I don't care," Eiríkur said. Lukas shrugged, also not having an opinion.

"Well, Ireland will be cooking and she actually can, so how about you guys get ready and we'll leave after that."

* * *

A couple hours later, a house outside New York City

"It's spelled with an 'e'!"

"No, it's not! You just added that to differentiate your slop from my national drink!"

"Scotland must be here!" Alfred said, smiling.

"What are they arguing about?" Eiríkur asked, setting down his small bag. He didn't get an answer due to the American running off to the living room.

Upon reaching the door, they saw Alfred hugging a tall man with bright red hair that was hugging back and saying, "Alfred! Great to see you!"

"Great to see you too, Uncle Scottie!"

Ireland just rolled her eyes and walked over to the two Nordics standing by the door. "Dia duit, Norway and… Iceland?"

"Já, I am Iceland."

She smiled. "You've grown quite a bit from that little boy attached to Norway's shadow."

"I mostly kept him on the ships when I went to your land," Lukas pointed out.

"Yes, but when he wasn't, he was following you around _all _of the time. I was honestly surprised the first time I saw you alone after you had found him."

"Can you guys stop talking?" Eiríkur muttered. "Wait, you don't hold a grudge against Lu- Nor for the Viking Age?"

She shook her head. "Not really. Kind of pointless to, especially since he was only really around at the start. It's Denmark we have the problems with."

At this point, Alfred and Scotland walked over. "Yep, Denmark has problems," Scotland agreed with his sister.

"You do not need to tell us that," Lukas said dryly. "It is a miracle he has not gotten himself killed." Eiríkur nodded, agreeing with his brother.

"By the way, what were you guys arguing about before we came in?"

Alfred's smile became forced and the two Celtic siblings started glaring at each other again. "How about I show you guys to your room?" the American quickly said, not waiting for an answer before dragging the two Nordics with him out of the room as they started arguing again.

Once they were upstairs and out of earshot, Alfred said, "Don't mention how 'whiskey' is spelled. You will never hear the end of it."

Before either of them could ask, the young nation stopped in front of a door and said, "This is your guy's rooms. Sorry for making you guys share, but it was either that or one of the British Isles and I don't have the cash to fix my house."

"It is fine," Lukas said before Eiríkur could protest.

"Great! I have to make sure they don't ruin my living room again, so I'll see you guys in the morning!" On that note, Alfred jogged back down the stairs.

Ignoring the yelling coming from downstairs, the two Nordic nations opened the door to find a decent sized room with two beds. "At least we won't have to share a bed again," Eiríkur muttered, throwing his bag down on the closest bed to the door.

Lukas just rolled his eyes before shutting and locking the door. The Icelander heard him mutter under his breath and assumed that he was putting up a ward to prevent others from sneaking in during the night.

A minute later, the Norwegian placed his bag on the bed and extracted a novel from it. Before he could lie down and enjoy it, Eiríkur asked, "Seriously, why doesn't Ireland hold a grudge against you for the Viking Age?"

Turning his attention to his brother, Lukas shrugged. "I do not know her reasons. However, I did not take part in as many raids as some may think. I actually mostly stopped once you were born, only occasionally joining some of my people when Berwald was back from doing Skalði knows what in the East and got me to take a break from watching you."

Eiríkur could actually remember a couple of those times. He hadn't been happy that his brother was leaving him, but Berwald was actually pretty kind to him and while he hadn't been his brother, he was still a pretty good guardian. He smiled a little, remembering one time when the Swede had made him a little wooden sword and he had pretended to be his brother and had a mock duel with Berwald…

The Icelander snapped out of it, saying, "I'm going to take a shower," quickly grabbing his pajamas and running into the bathroom before Lukas could say anything.

He turned on the water, hoping that the water would drown out his thoughts. No such luck.

Eiríkur tried to convince himself that Sweden had changed. He wasn't that kind man anymore. Instead, he was someone that tore his brother away from him and let him get invaded, even going so far as to help the invaders along.

He ignored the voice that tried to tell him that it was not Berwald's fault either time, that he was just doing what was best for his people or had no way of stopping his government.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Dia duit (Irish Gaelic)- hello **

**Notes:**

'**Weird crap on the radio'- The story Alfred mentions is the War of the Worlds radio broadcast in 1938. Basically, everyone seemed to have missed the message at the start of the program and thought that aliens really were invading. Tons of people fled their homes in the Northern US and Canada. I could not make this up if I tried. Go look it up.**

**North- Northern Ireland. When I say 'Ireland' I mean The Republic of Ireland (The Free State of Ireland during this time period). Why is he irritated at his twin sister? Because of everything that happened after WWI with them. Their relationship isn't to the level of, say, Ireland and England's, but there is some tension there.**

**Also, yes, I know that Ireland was neutral. However, Alfred invited her to the party ****because he likes her**** because she's a good friend of his. Please do not murder me for this.**

**Uncle Scottie- The nickname America, Canada, Australia, and maybe New Zealand calls Scotland. Please note that he is not their uncle. They just call him that and Scotland completely embraces it.**

**Hákarl part two- Forgot to mention this last chapter, but Eiríkur doesn't actually eat it a lot. He just threatens people with it. About the whole "going blind and walking into a volcano thing"… I **_**may **_**have been reading a certain Hetalia-inspired web comic…**

**Personified States- It makes too much sense to me. Living in the US makes you fully aware of how different some of the states are. Plus there is the fact that the state governments have some power over their states. I don't see them being a secret like so many others do, though. Alfred just doesn't shout it at everyone and most nations don't even realize that they could exist. By the way, I also think that the Canadian provinces/territories and the Australian states (?) are also personified.**

**Whiskey vs Whisky- In Ireland and the US, it is spelled with an 'e'. In Scotland and Canada, it is not spelled like that. And yes, it is apparently the national drink of Scotland.**

**Eiríkur has a grudge against Berwald- Mentioned this a couple chapters ago. Please note that the last time he had seen Berwald was sometime in the 18****th**** century and Berwald has no clue about how he feels. They will get some resolution after we get out of WWII.**

**Sweden helped the Nazis invade Norway- They let some of them cross through their land. Part of the reason they did this was to keep them from invading them, though it's apparently not a good idea to bring this up to a Norwegian. For the record, Lukas is not happy at Sweden, but he realizes that Berwald probably didn't have much to do with it and is trying not to get extremely mad at him. Whether it's working or not depends on the day.**

**I meant to just to the Christmas party this chapter, but this turned out too long for that. Sorry.**

**If you're wondering why this chapter took a little while to come out, it's because I've been trying to learn Norwegian (Bokmål) and haven't had too much time. I like to think I'm doing pretty good, or at least better than French. The only problem is that I now have to restrain myself from adding in a bunch of pointless Norwegian words.**

**Just so you know, my Spring Break has started, so I will hopefully get a couple of chapters out depending on what's going on.**

**Next chapter: They go to a party and Lukas is satisfied that his brother has made some acquaintances. **


	18. 18: Friends

**NOTE: I have decided to change Denmark's human name from Magnus to Mikkel. I will be going back through the earlier chapters and fixing this, so if you get a bunch of updates, that's why.**

**Chapter 18: Friends**

December 24, 1942; New York City, New York, United States

The party was nowhere near as bad as Lukas had privately thought it would be. There weren't too many nations there (he thanked the Æsir, Vanir, and other assorted Norse gods that there weren't fifty states hanging around) and there were also no humans.

Alfred had dragged Eiríkur off about five minutes after the party started, apparently having decided that he needed to meet everyone. The Icelander had looked pleadingly at his brother, who had just smirked and did nothing to help him.

Of course, he was still keeping an eye on him from where he was leaning against the wall. If someone even looked at his brother in a way he didn't approve of, they would receive a violent reminder of the Viking Age.

"You know, I'm a little surprised you came," a deep, accented voice said next to him.

Lukas looked over to see Scotland standing next to him, a bottle of whisky in his hand. "Hallo, Skottland," he said, inclining his head towards the Celtic nation.

"Call me Alasdair," the redhead said, waving an arm in dismissal. "We see each other enough there's no need to be so formal."

A little bit surprised but not allowing it to show on his face, the Norwegian said in return, "You may call me Lukas then, if that is the case. And what do you mean, you are surprised that I came?"

Alasdair shrugged. "You don't strike me as someone that enjoys these types of things," he explained.

"I am not," Lukas admitted, looking for his brother again. "I came because I want my brother to have friends outside of the Nordics."

"Out of curiosity, are you two blood brothers?"

"Ja, we are. Scandinavia was our shared mother, though she faded just after Iceland was born."

He heard the Scotsman sigh. "Seems like we have something in common, then," he said, taking a sip of his whisky.

Lukas looked at him, tearing his eyes from where they had been watching Alfred introduce Eiríkur to a brunette nation he thought was Australia. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Britannia, our mother, died in childbirth with Albion. I never even got to ask who his father was."

"You do not know?"

He shrugged. "He doesn't have the same father as the rest of us. Celt disappeared after Cymru was born, and there's no way Albion could have blond hair if he was the father."

"Celt?" Lukas asked, having no idea who he was referring to.

"He was the personification of our lands before our birth."

The Nordic nodded, realizing that that made sense. That still left who Britannia was, but that could possibly be explained by the Roman invasion of what is now England and Wales.

"What about the two of you?" Alasdair asked, breaking into his thoughts. "Do you two have the same father? Or just are half-siblings?"

"Half-siblings do not really exist in our race. We are either blood related or we are not."

"You're dodging the question."

Lukas sighed. Not understanding why he was still having this conversation, he said, "I do not know. I do not want to talk about it."

Because he _did_ have a theory about who their father could be. He just did not want to admit that it was even a possibility, not even to himself, especially with how he's been treating them…

Thankfully, Alasdair didn't pursue the matter. "Are you related to the other Nordics?"

"Nei," Lukas said, shaking his head. "Denmark and Sweden were raised alongside me, but we are not actually related. We have no idea where Finland came from."

"Do you consider them your brothers?" the redhead asked, frowning when he realized he had finished his drink. "That's almost as good as being blood relatives."

"I used to," the Norwegian said shortly. He wished he could still consider them family, but too much had happened over the centuries.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, gazing out at the crowd. Lukas internally smiled as he saw Eiríkur seemingly enjoying talking to Australia and an Asian nation that seemed about the same age as him. Hopefully that meant he finally found a couple of friends, though he'd have to keep an eye on the Aussie.

"I've been trying to hint to Cymru that he should plan some sort of activity to get us spending time together again." Once again, Alasdair broke the silence. When Lukas turned to him he added, "I miss the times when we were a real family. I may not be able to plan something myself without massive opposition from the others, but I can help it on the way."

After making sure that he understood the message, the Scot gestured to his empty bottle and said, "I'm going to get some more whisky. See you later, Lukas."

"Ha det bra," the Norwegian said absently, lost in his thoughts.

Lukas perfectly understood what Alasdair was trying to tell him. He should get one of the others to try and fix their broken relationship, which was actually a good idea.

The problem was who, though. Eiríkur was out- he was still mad at the Swede for everything that had transpired in the last century. Mikkel was also out. While the two of them were on better terms now, he was still wary of him after that treaty. Berwald… while normally he would try him since he knew that deep down he missed his brother, Lukas wasn't sure he could look at him after his country let the Germans through. While intellectually he knew Berwald wasn't at fault, his heart refused to listen to reason.

That only left Timo, and he had his own problems at the moment.

Lukas looked at his brother, who was actually smiling at something the Asian nation had said that left Australia laughing his head off.

The Norwegian gave a little smile as he noticed Eiríkur gesture in his direction, apparently wanting to introduce them to him. At least someone wasn't going to leave the party with too many things to think about.

* * *

Eiríkur silently cursed his brother out. He knew that he wanted him to make friends, but did he have to subject him to watching Alfred and Ireland flirt with each other? He felt like a third wheel. He would've just walked off and let them sort out their issues, but he could hear England drunkenly moan about something stupid to India (who looked like he was about to punch him) at the bar and didn't want to hear him moan about the Viking Age.

Finally, Alfred said goodbye to the Irish woman, telling her he'll talk to her later, and dragged the Icelander off.

After being nice and waiting for them to get out of Ireland's earshot, Eiríkur deadpanned, "Please tell me you two are together."

Alfred's face turned bright red. "W-what are you talking about? The hero is just looking out for his friends!"

The Nordic rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I am _sure _that's it."

"Um… um… Oz! Come over here!" the American said, gesturing frantically for a brunette with two large cowlicks to save him.

Said nation jogged over. "Al! Been looking for you all night! Why didn't you tell me it was winter here!"

"Dude, it's always winter during the holidays."

"No, it's summer! You spent Christmas at my place in Canberra in the 20s. You should know that!"

_What kind of forsaken place has the seasons messed up?_

"I'm not Australia, so can you blame me for not knowing?"

_Ah. That explains it._

"Yeah I can, mate!"

Alfred laughed. "Anyway, 'mate', this is Iceland," he said, gesturing to said nation. "Iceland, this is Australia."

"Hei."

"G'day!" Australia said, grinning. "Nice to meet someone on the complete other side of the world!"

"I haven't met anyone from the southern hemisphere before… so the same to you…?"

Australia just slapped him on the back, causing him to stumble. "I think we're going to be great mates!"

Alfred just laughed again. "I'm going to go find Iggy and bug him. See you guys later!" Without waiting for a response, the American took off, leaving the two alone.

"So, Al tells me that it's not really icy in Iceland," the Australian said.

Eiríkur nodded. "It's really not," he admitted. "Sure, there's some glaciers and it gets cold during the winter, but there's also annoying volcanoes."

"I wish I had some volcanoes."

The Icelander stared at him. "Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief.

"I mean," the brunette continued, apparently not having heard him, "I've got everything that can kill you but that. I need to beat the record!"

Eiríkur glanced over at his brother, hoping that he could get him to knock some sense into the insane nation. No such luck, considering he was speaking to Scotland and was seemingly not paying any attention to him at all.

Thankfully changing the subject, Australia said, "Anyway, so do you have your own language?"

The Icelander nodded. "Já. Frábrugðin öðrum sjálfur líka." When he just got a blank look, he translated, "Yes, and different from others."

"Can tell that just by hearing… how many words did you say?"

"Fimm."

Australia sighed. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"Kannski," Eiríkur admitted, hiding a smirk.

Another Asian-looking nation cut in to their conversation, probably saving the Australian from the frustration of not understanding a single word of what he was saying. "Where did you put my firecrackers?" he asked.

"I thought those were for New Years," Australia asked, confused.

"They are," the Asian nation nodded. "However, England is being annoying. I need to get back at him." Finally noticing Eiríkur, he asked, "Who are you?"

Before he could say anything, Australia slung an arm around him and said, "Hong Kong, this is my new mate Iceland!"

Eiríkur forced him to let go of him before saying, "Hei. Um… no offense intended, but I have no clue where Hong Kong is."

Hong Kong waved it off. "It's fine. I'm not offended at all. If you were this idiot, I would be, but I've never met you before."

"I'm not an idiot!"

"I'm a city in China that's unfortunately under control of the British Empire after England got China high and lost a war. Though China did get back at him by slamming him over the head with his wok and gluing him into a dress while he was out."

It took them a minute to process this, but the image made Australia start laughing his head off. Eiríkur also grinned at the image.

The grin was almost wiped off his face when he happened to glance back at his brother. Scotland was gone, but something he said must have really hit Lukas. No one but him, his brother, would be able to tell that something was wrong, but he could see the subtle signs.

Making an impulsive decision, Eiríkur turned to the other two. "Hey, do you guys want to meet my brother?"

They looked at him, surprised. "Who's your brother?" Hong Kong asked.

"Norway," the Icelander answered, gesturing to where Lukas was still leaning against the wall.

"Sure," Australia said. Hong Kong shrugged.

He led them over to his brother. "Hey, Nor, this is Australia and Hong Kong," he said, introducing them to him. "Australia, Hong Kong, this is my big brother Norway."

Eiríkur saw a flicker of a smile cross his brother's face before it faded back into his usual façade. "Hallo, Australia, Hong Kong," he said, nodding at them.

"Nice to meet you!" Australia grinned. Hong Kong just nodded back.

Eiríkur caught his brother's eye, silently asking if everything was alright. Lukas just shook his head, indicating that they'd talk later.

"So, you two live on the other side of the world?" When they nodded, Lukas asked, "What is it like in your lands? I have never been, and I doubt that I will have the chance to until planes start being used by the general public."

Luckily, the conversation that ensued seemed to drive any dreary thoughts from Lukas' mind for the time being. Even when Hong Kong asked about the Norwegian's own lands Eiríkur didn't see a cloud pass over his face. Instead, he proudly talked about the beauty that could be found in Norway and didn't get annoyed when Australia mentioned that all he had heard about were the fjords.

Eiríkur decided to consider that a success.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Ha det bra (Norwegian)- Goodbye**

**Já. Frábrugðin öðrum sjálfur líka. (Icelandic)- Yes. Different from other ones, too.**

**Fimm- five**

**Kannski- maybe**

**(Note that the Icelandic is probably not correct. Feel free to correct me if it isn't.)**

**Notes:**

**See each other enough- Didn't really mention this in the chapter, but Scotland is usually the one running around and speaking to the nations in exile. England is usually running around in North Africa, Wales takes care of any governmental issues and North… does something.**

**England has a different dad- I was really bored one day and came up with some family trees, at least for the European and North American nations. Basically, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales are considered Celtic nations while England was influenced by the Germanic tribes that invaded shortly after the fall of Rome. I believe you can figure out what I'm implying here.**

**Lukas and Eiríkur's dad- All I will say is that he is still around. If you figure out who I'm referring to and wonder how I got that, I did some research. **

**Oz- No, that is not Australia's human name. It is just a nickname. I have not decided what his human name is yet. Why is he friends with Eiríkur now? I mentioned Alfred introducing them and realized that it would be kind of funny and make sense in some weird way.**

**Canberra- Capital of Australia. No, it is not Sydney or Melbourne. Also, in case you don't get the joke, winter in the Northern Hemisphere is summer in the Southern Hemisphere, where Australia is located.**

**China lost a war while high- The Opium War. By the way, the dress incident had nothing to do with what actually happened. I made it up.**

**This chapter was not supposed this depressing. What is with this? I would say that it would get better soon, but that would be a lie. Maybe in three or four chapters, depending.**


	19. 19: Referendum

**Chapter 19: Referendum**

May 23 1944; Reykjavík, Iceland

Lukas honestly wondered why he was surprised that Eiríkur was still pacing in his living room. It had been happening for the past four days, after all.

He leaned against the wall, just watching him, for a few minutes, before sighing and saying, "Stop creating a trench in your carpet, Eiríkur."

The Icelander jumped, whirling around to face his brother. "Lukas! Don't do that!" he shouted. "Give me some warning next time."

"I have been standing here for the past five minutes," Lukas deadpanned. "Calm down. You will not know the results of the referendum until the last ballot is cast."

"Don't act like you weren't anxious when you got your independence," the younger nation glared.

"I was. That does not mean that it helps."

Eiríkur groaned and plopped down on the couch, burying his head in his hands. "Storebror," he muttered, catching Lukas' attention, "am I doing something wrong?"

"What do you mean?" Lukas asked, sitting next to his brother and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do you not want your independence?"

"I do!" The personification yelled, raising his head and glaring at his brother. "How could you even imply that I don't?"

"I did not mean it that way. I just want to know what you meant."

The Icelander looked away, biting his lip. "I mean… am I wrong for doing this now, when Denmark is in no position to even have a say?"

Lukas sighed. "I do not think you are wrong," he admitted. "If I was in your position, I would do the exact same thing. Besides, it is a little bit too late for second guessing yourself, is it not?"

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

After a moment, Eiríkur asked, "Aren't you the one that wants to fix our relationships with each other? Shouldn't you be telling me that this is a bad idea because of that?"

It took a moment for Lukas to realize what he meant before he remembered the conversation they had had more than a year ago.

* * *

"_Are you going to tell me what Scotland said that made you so depressed at the party?" _

_Lukas' head shot up upon hearing his brother ask that question. "Why do you believe that he said something?" he asked, hoping that he would drop it._

_Instead, Eiríkur sat down across from him and stared at him. "Don't even try to deny it. He didn't say anything about the war, did he? Because if he did, I'll curse him."_

_The Norwegian had to smile at that. While he didn't believe that it would truly work because of the pretty impressive wards that Alasdair had cast around his home, he appreciated the sentiment. "No, he did not. It… was not anything bad. He just said something that got me thinking. Do not worry."_

"_I'm not worrying," the Icelander protested. "I just want to know what he said to make you so depressed I could easily see it."_

_Lukas stayed silent. While he knew that his little brother would most likely react badly, he deserved to know what he was planning. He may even help if he got him onto his side._

_Choosing his words carefully, he said, "We were talking about our families… about how we want to reconcile, but we cannot be the ones to do it."_

_Apparently not understanding, the younger nation said, "The two of us have a good relationship. We don't need to reconcile anything."_

_The Norwegian sighed. Looking his brother directly in the eyes, he said, "I do not mean the two of us. I meant the ones we are not connected by blood to."_

_Eiríkur looked confused for a moment as he tried to think about what he meant. When he realized it, he stared at his brother in shock. "You're not actually thinking about…?" he gasped._

"_Why should I not?" Lukas asked, having a good idea about why his brother was against it._

"_After what they've done? Are you crazy? They don't deserve to be a part of our family!"_

_Getting straight to the heart of the matter instead of wasting unnecessary time, the Norwegian corrected him, "You do not mean 'they'. You are referring to Berwald."_

_Eiríkur scowled, looking away. "How can you stand to call him by his human name?" he growled. "I can barely say 'Sweden', even if I'm talking about the actual country."_

"_I have learned that it is pointless to hold grudges," Lukas said, sighing at his brother. "Especially when he may have had nothing to do with what has happened."_

"_There's no way he didn't know! He let them invade your lands! In fact, he probably helped them and suggested that they go through his lands!"_

"_He may have, I will not deny that," he admitted. "However, there is also the possibility that he tried to convince them _not _to."_

"_You don't know that, though," Eiríkur said, looking back at his brother. "How can you condone what he did, regardless of how he felt?"_

_This time, it was the Norwegian that looked away. "I do not condone it," he whispered, playing with the blanket draped over the back of the couch. "I doubt that I will be able to forgive _Konungariket Sverige _anytime soon. But, though he is the personification of that country… I may be able to get past that in regards to _Berwald Oxenstierna._"_

_Cutting off his brother before he could speak, Lukas said, gazing at his brother, "I have done things that I am not proud of, lillebror, and also regret not having done more to stop some things my bosses have done. When you have been through as much as I have, hopefully you will understand that we cannot truly hold grudges against each other if we want to have a functioning relationship with _anyone._"_

_Eiríkur didn't say anything. When Lukas looked up, he was looking away again, biting his lip. After a moment, he whispered, "But he hasn't done anything to _me _that I'm mad about…"_

_Lukas blink, eyes softening as he realized what was truly the matter. He got up and walked over to his brother, sitting next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are still mad about the Treaty of Kiel," he whispered. _

"_He took you away," Eiríkur whispered, burying his head in his knees. "I cried myself to sleep for weeks afterwards. No one even tried to comfort me except for Mr. Puffin. How can I forgive him for that, for taking you away for almost a century?"_

_The Norwegian felt his heart shatter upon hearing that. Even more than before, he regretted not sending those letters. They would have at least let him know that he still cared, that he still thought of him. Reaching out to hug him, he said, "I have already let that go. You need also need to."_

_The Icelander sniffed and leaned into the hug, desperately trying not to cry. "I don't know if I can," he admitted._

"_Just try," Lukas said, rubbing his back. "At least talk about this with Berwald the first chance we have, okay?"_

_He saw Eiríkur hesitate for a moment before nodding. "I'm not making any promises that it'll work though," he muttered. The Norwegian just nodded and smiled, happy that he at least got him to agree to this._

* * *

He snapped out of the memory quickly enough and looked over at his brother. "Eiríkur, I may want to fix our relationships with the other three, but I want you to be happy even more."

"Why do you care so much about me being happy?"

Lukas stared at the Icelander, not comprehending the question. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Eiríkur looked away, not saying anything for a moment. Finally, he elaborated, "It's just… you don't even seem to care about what happens to you. All you care about is how I'm doing. You would brutally murder anyone that even tries to mess with me, even though you know that I can take care of myself. Why?"

"You are my little brother," the Norwegian said, still not fully understanding. "I do not understand what you are trying to ask."

Eiríkur groaned. "I mean, what is it about being my older brother that makes you act like this?"

The older nation opened his mouth to speak but closed it upon realizing that he didn't have a clue how to explain it. Deciding to be truthful, he said, "I honestly do not know how to explain it. It is just… instinctive. From the moment I first held you, I wanted to protect you and keep you as happy as possible."

"You're making me sound like your son or something," he muttered.

Lukas sighed. "You had to take it that way…" he muttered. "No, I am most definitely not your father, nor do I have any children, though I will fully admit I would be far more overprotective with a child if I did father one."

"Good thing that the world won't have to know that level of terror, considering how you're pretty much asexual."

"We have already established that I am not asexual and just do not want to have to deal with a romantic relationship right now. Besides, I can turn that argument right back to you."

"I'm physically fifteen."

"And? That was considered a normal marrying age a couple centuries ago."

"First, I believe that was for women. Do you want me to prove that I am a man?"

"No. I already got enough proof when I had to help you bathe when you were younger."

"Second," Eiríkur continued, ignoring his brother, "that was the past. Live in the present and stop reminiscing about the past."

Lukas grimaced, but forced it to leave his face before Eiríkur could notice, knowing that he didn't mean to bring up the fact that his home was still under German control. It was his own mind that decided to take it that way.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he said, "I do not know. I like some of the old traditions and how simple life was most of the time. There were problems, yes, but there are even more now."

He heard Eiríkur mutter, "Great, another monologue about the old days," and turned to glare at his brother, who just stared back.

They had been in this position for a few minutes when Eiríkur suddenly gasped, eyes widening and staring at the wall but not really seeing it.

Recognizing what that meant, having experienced the same thing not even forty years before, Lukas placed a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Eiríkur, did the votes come in?"

The personification of Iceland nodded, still in shock.

"What did your people choose?" Lukas asked, trying to get an indication from his fellow nation's expression.

"…Sjálfstæði…" The Icelandic nation whispered, almost as if he couldn't believe it himself. A smile broke out on his face and tears of happiness gathered in his eyes as it set in. "Sjálfstæði!"

* * *

**Translations:**

**Konungariket Sverige (Swedish)- The Kingdom of Sweden**

**Sjálfstæði (Icelandic)- Independence**

**Notes:**

**May 20-23, 1944- Iceland held a national referendum to determine two things: 1. Whether or not to sever ties with the Danish monarchy and 2. Whether or not to form a republic. We all know which one they chose.**

**Know when the last ballot is cast- Because they are the personifications of the countries, they know who/what won an election the moment the last person votes, even if the official results don't come in until later. If a vote is extremely close, then they may have to wait a bit, but this was definitely not the case for Iceland's referendum. I'll talk about that next chapter, so I won't get into detail here.**

**Not asexual- My opinion on Lukas' romantic interests is basically 'I do not wish to pursue a relationship at this moment'. He's **_**not**_** asexual; he's just not interested in a relationship. Whether or not Eiríkur is the same way depends on the day.**

**Not really relevant, but voting officially ended at midnight. So there's a reason why Lukas is kind of annoyed at Eiríkur in the beginning.**

**You know, I really wanted to make a chapter about the Norwegian Heavy Water Sabotage. However, it turned out that there were three separate operations, and I only knew about the one in 1943. I found out about the others… when I posted chapter 17, too late to add it. I was pretty mad about that.**

**Also, it is just now sinking in that this is going to be a long story, even longer than I had originally thought. I mean, we're on chapter 19, and still in WWII. Though it isn't necessarily a bad thing. I'm still somehow motivated to keep writing this, which is great. I kind of thought that I would lose interest by now, but I haven't really. Also, I have picked up a bunch of new headcanons (like the fact that I hadn't given any thought about their dad or half of the things I have mentioned) and learned a lot about Norwegian and Icelandic history. **

**Now let's just hope that I keep interest long enough to finish this :P.**

**Next Chapter: The Republic of Iceland.**


	20. 20: Lýðveldi

**I suck.**

**I'm really sorry for not updating. It's a long story and you guys probably don't care that much.**

**Anyway, here's chapter 20.**

**Chapter 20: Lýðveldi**

_Reykjavík, June 17, 1944_

Lukas had been very entertained by watching Eiríkur the few weeks after the referendum.

His younger brother was practically bursting with excitement and happiness. The Norwegian personally wasn't sure if it was because Iceland was finally becoming completely, fully independent or the fact he had finally grown more, to the point where he was only a few inches shorter than him.

_"Um... storebror... Can I please borrow some clothes?"_

_Lukas looked up from his newspaper in confusion, not understanding why the Icelander had asked that until he saw him clutching onto a blanket. He smiled. "So you're finally not the shortest anymore," he teased._

_"Shut up Lukas," Eiríkur muttered. "Who knows? Maybe Timo and I will get some freakish growth spurts and you'll be the shortest."_

_"I would be slightly concerned if that happened," the Norwegian said. "Unfortunately for you, you will most likely end up more or less the same height as me." He paused, then smirked. "Then again, maybe you will stay this same height forever. It did take you close to a thousand years to age past ten, after all."_

_"Don't even joke about that!" Eiríkur yelled, panicked. "Thor, I don't know what I'd do if that was true! I don't want to look... How old do I look now?"  
_

_"About sixteen. Do not worry, little brother," Lukas said, rolling his eyes. "You will most likely keep aging for awhile. I do not know how much more, but you will."_

_"How do you know?" The Icelander pouted._

_"Alasdair told me that Alfred kept growing slowly until the late 1800s. Apparently he looked 15 when he first gained independence, and you can agree with me that he looks around 19, yes?"  
_

_"Yeah... But still..."_

_Lukas smiled as he got up, ruffling Eiríkur's hair as he passed by. "Come. I will see if I have anything for you."_

The Norwegian smiled as he remembered that morning, checking the time and seeing that it was still fairly early in the evening. Eiríkur would most likely still be out for awhile.

The younger nation had asked him to come with him, but he had declined, saying that it was not his independence and that he did not want to intrude. The Icelander had objected, but had finally dropped it after a few days.

Truthfully, Lukas felt like he didn't deserve to go.

For once, it was not because of the lingering guilt he had over the invasion. If he had gone, it would have been as _Lukas,_ Eiríkur's older brother, not as _Kongeriket Norge, _the nation.

No, the reason was the fact that he wished that it was him that was granting them independence.

Lukas broke out of his thoughts, rushing into the kitchen to check on the cake he was making. Thankfully, it was perfectly cooked, his thoughts not having distracted him too much. Setting it out to let it cool, he began to cook the rest of the meal he had planned.

Eiríkur had said that he didn't need to do anything, that he would be fine picking something up with his new president, but Lukas had completely ignored him, telling him to consider it a gift for his first birthday.

Once he was done with the rest of the meal, the Norwegian cast a few spells to keep the food warm and waited for his younger brother.

He didn't have to wait much longer.

The moment the Icelander walked in the door, Lukas was up and hugging him. "Til hamingju, Lýðveldið Ísland... litli bróðir minn."

Eiríkur smiled as he hugged his brother back. "Tusen takk, storebror."

After a couple minutes, Lukas pulled pack, holding his brother by his shoulders as he examined him. "I told you I would not recognize you when you came back," he teased.

"Shut up," Eiríkur muttered, too happy to put any real venom into those words. "I don't look any different."

The Norwegian shook his head. "No, not much. However, you seem to be... I do not know exactly how to explain it, but you seem to be carrying yourself differently."

The Icelander just looked confused, causing Lukas to shake his head and usher his brother into the dining room, sitting him down in a chair before sitting across from him, passing him some fish.

After a few minutes of enjoying their meals, Lukas finally asked his brother something he had been wondering for the past couple of days. "I heard somewhere that this day had some sort of significance behind it. However, they did not say what it was."

Eiríkur gave a nostalgic smile. "It was Jón Sigurðsson's birthday," he said.

It took Lukas a second to remember where he had heard that name, but then he remembered reading about the man that had advocated for Iceland's ability to manage their own affairs and had been considered to be a leader of their Independence movement until his death in Copenhagen. "Did you know him well?"

Eiríkur nodded. "Yeah. I actually ended up telling him who I was, though considering how I had been spending a lot of time at his home, he and Ingibjörg had pretty much realized that I wasn't, you know, human by then." He looked down at his plate before biting his lip and saying softly, "I miss him."

Lukas looked down, saying softly, "Jeg ønsker..." before trailing off, not sure what exactly he wished for. To have met Jón? To have been there for Eiríkur during that time, because he could guess why he had spent so much time there? For _none _of this to have happened?

"I wish you could've met them too," Eiríkur said. "I actually told them a lot about you, and they made me realize that... you didn't really have a choice..."

"Is that why you were not that angry at me when we finally saw each other again?" the Norwegian asked softly.

The younger nation nodded.

Lukas smiled while walking over and hugging him. "I wish I had the opportunity to thank him. Not only for taking care of you, but for doing what he could for your country."

"I wish that you could too," Eiríkur said, relaxing into the hug.

* * *

The next morning, Eiríkur found a letter on the table addressed to him. Frowning and wondering where it had come from, he opened it, eyes widening in shock when he saw it.

It wasn't the words written in hesitant Icelandic- _Til hamingju- congratulations- _it was the fact that he recognized the handwriting.

Lukas found him still standing there a couple minutes later, an eyebrow raising upon seeing the words written on the piece of paper. "I believe that you do not have to worry about his reaction any longer," he said softly, a minuscule smile on his face.

Eiríkur just bit his lip, not having any idea how to thank Mikkel for somehow sending those two words to him.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Lýðveldi (Icelandic) - Republic **

**Kongeriket Norge (Norwegian) - Kingdom of Norway**

**Til hamingju (Icelandic) - ****Congratulations**

**Lýðveldið Ísland (Icelandic) - Republic of Iceland**

**Litli bróðir minn (Icelandic) - my little brother**

**Tusen takk (Norwegian) - Thank you very much (literally something like 'thousand thank you's')**

**Jeg ønsker (Norwegian) - I wish**

**Notes:**

**June 17, 1944 - Iceland dissolves the union between them and Denmark and becomes a republic. **

**Jón Sigurðsson - An Icelander that lived during the 1800s and was very instrumental in their independence movement. He lived in Copenhagen, which gave me the idea of Eiríkur hanging out at his house to get away from Mikkel and his issues. I would go on and add more about him, but unfortunately for me, most of the info is in Icelandic and Google Chrome's page translations fail. Ingibjörg was his wife. (Icelandic names are weird. You have some really pretty and nice ones, and then you have names like that. Of course, I'm not sure if I as an American can really say anything...)**

**Mikkel sending a letter - Apparently King Christian X send Iceland a letter of congratulations for becoming a republic even though the Danes apparently felt a bit offended they did it at that time. Granted, I found that last bit on Wikipedia, but I would be a little bit offended if Texas seceded while we were at war, so... Anyway, that's where the idea for that came from.**

**Once again, I'm really sorry for not updating.**

**By the way, anyone have any idea for events I could do for the 60s-80s that involves Norway? I have absolutely nothing for them, but several things for Iceland.**


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